


Oblivious

by Name1



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Sparring, Strip Poker, Sunburn, Teasing, Touching, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, clueless, he's so taken with her, idiots to lovers, shower time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23223190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Name1/pseuds/Name1
Summary: Din was acting weird…..She wondered what was going on as she took off her towel and stepped into the hot spray of the shower. He would tell her if he was sick, she was sure of it. They were always open and honest with one another when it really mattered. Maybe he was just distracted or tired.  That could be it, but it only happened when she walked in the room.......what was that about? Had she pissed him off inadvertently? She couldn’t think of anything.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 73
Kudos: 159





	1. Put some clothes on!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,  
> Working on the next chapter of my other story, I realized it as going to take a long time with work being what it is. Soooo, I decided to write something short I can crank out much faster in the meantime. Also, some more social distancing distraction, so here you go....
> 
> This is a standalone story with probably 4 chapters. Hope you enjoy something different :)  
> Thank you to Lady_Vibeke for getting this stuck in my head.

It had been just over a week since she had come on board, for good this time. He expected it to be difficult, but he had been pleasantly surprised. They had lived in each other's presence months before during their mutual downtime on Sorgan, but this was different. This was close quarters on The Crest, an enclosed space with nowhere to blow off steam or just be alone if the desire struck. It could easily reach a boiling point, become a veritable pressure cooker, under the wrong conditions. Two hot-headed people such as them could easily be at teach other’s throats if they didn’t play this right.

She was more than respectful of his space though, never encroaching into his personal bubble unless she was invited. She seemed uncharacteristically hesitant to push the boundary of his hospitality. It made sense though, they were still navigating their new roles and how they would work and live together. He would have to make it more clear to her that this was her home now too; she could go anywhere she pleased.

Since he regretfully parted ways with her on Nevarro, he had tried not to think of her. He had his hands more than full with the kid and all the interesting new people they came across on their journeys, but for some reason his thoughts always found their way back to her. At first it puzzled him, his inability to _not_ picture her in his head even at the most inopportune moments. Then, the inability to stop imagining her face frustrated him -- He tried to block it out, but it didn’t work. He tried to ignore it after that. Eventually, he just accepted it as a fact of life. He didn’t have to worry about forgetting her if her face showed up in his head, _not to mention his drea_ ms, as often as it did. _As if he could ever forget her…_

Somewhere along the line she had wormed her way into his life, his thoughts, and his vision of the future. She was there with him when he thought about the future, it was that simple. Everything had just fallen in place in the past and they had worked so well together he couldn’t imagine her not being there.

Then Nevarro happened, and then she wasn’t there anymore after that.

He didn’t even really get a chance to tell her goodbye. That never sat well with him. Twice now, he had relied on her bravery, her courage, her selflessness and he had walked away afterwards. _What was he so afraid of? What’s the worst that could happen if he stuck around?_

_Was he afraid that she would finally realize he wasn’t the good person she believed he was?_ _Was he afraid that her friendship and affection would vanish as soon as the imminent threat was eliminated?_ _That without a clear goal and an enemy to face down together, they didn’t have enough common ground to continue this…whatever this was that they shared?_ That was bullshit and he knew it. They had always just _clicked_. He was scared he would mess it up, it was that simple. If he left, he couldn’t……

That didn’t quite work out like he planned. He had only been away from her for a few weeks when it was clear he wasn't the same loner he had been for years; before the kid and Cara, and the crazy turn of events that lead him on the dangerous adventure that turned the tide of his meaningless life. He had so much now, where before he had nothing, and it was because of her. He tried living by himself, tried gathering help from others he met along the way, but no one compared to her.

He thought it would be hard to live with someone, but she made it so easy. So easy in fact, that it almost made him suspicious. _People were supposed to fight when they lived together right?_ Surely, he must do something that drives her to distraction or vice versa, but he couldn't think of anything. She was quiet unless they were laughing or training; easy to get along with.

She was his friend, _his closest friend_ , but he couldn't deny that she was also nice to look at. She cared about the kid and had put herself between Din and certain death more than once. This woman he came back for was the same one who had taken the kid as Din’s last request when he thought he was dying, when he thought that her face was the last thing he'd ever see, and been glad it was the face of his friend who would miss him when he was gone. He’d never mattered to anyone just as a man, just as a person before. He was always a member of a clan, a part of a whole, but never just Din. He felt like he was just Din when she was by his side.

He had showed back up on Nevarro, filled with relief that she was alright, and he barely remembered the utter stream of nonsense that had come tumbling out of his mouth when he asked her to come with him. He had expected her to make him work for it at least; tease him a little or put up some kind of fight at disrupting her life again, but she had only asked him if he really wanted her there.

_The answer had been so easy._

She was his friend and he had never enjoyed anyone’s presence like he enjoyed hers. Having her back with him had been a joy. He quickly became accustomed to her quirks again over the past few days, and it was comforting to him to realize he had never really forgotten them. He didn't want to be a creep, but he found himself staring at her from time to time when he zoned out. No one with eyeballs (or eyestalks, or vision receptors for that matter) could blame him. Once your eyes landed on her, even in passing, they were just stuck there.

He only had one complaint, which wasn’t even really a complaint at all: She didn't even know she was doing it, but her little mannerisms were going to drive him insane. There were only so many cold showers a man could take before she would start to wonder why he always needed to bathe. The worst part was that she seemed to be completely oblivious to the effect she had on him. Take for instance this morning:

He was sitting at the common table after scarfing down a protein bar in the privacy of his bunk. Cara had woken up shortly after and stumbled to the kitchen area in search of something caffeinated. She was wearing her usual sleeping attire consisting of black exercise shorts and a white shirt with the thinnest straps he had ever seen on a piece of clothing. As she took the first sip of her morning beverage, she let out a deep satisfied moan that had his head automatically snapping up from the table. For the hundredth time in a week, he asked himself the same question. _Why couldn’t she be less stunning to look at? Couldn’t she have an average face, a grating annoying voice, or a body that wasn’t like a goddess from one of those legends you hear about on backwater planets with complex mythology?_

A better question was why he was staring at her chest as hard as he was. He wasn’t a 15-year-old boy anymore, no adolescent surviving on hormones and a glimpse of breast more than food and water and air.….

Her head was tipped back as she savored her drink, and the action elongated the curve of her neck and lead his eyes on a natural journey down to her neckline, which did nothing to conceal two of her best assets. He had to purposefully avert his eyes when he realized she was devastatingly bare under the shirt, the chill of the room causing the outline of her nipples to become quite noticeabl---

No-

No. _Absolutely not._ He forced his eyes to look back down at the table again. _What the hell was wrong with him?_ She didn’t deserve to be ogled like this. This was his _friend_ who practically gave up the life she was living to help him. She had stood at his side more than anyone else ever had. She couldn’t help the fact that she looked the way she did. She couldn't help the way his body reacted to hers either. He would not take advantage of her trust in him, only to reward it with his greedy eyes and heated thoughts.

“If it’s cold in here, let me know so I can turn up the temperature,” he suggested wanting to find a comfortable living temperature for them both. That would also help solve the distraction under her shirt that was holding his attention.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not really that cold,” she replied, thankful for this thoughtfulness.

“Oh.........okay then, never mind,” he said awkwardly. “Just let me know if you aren’t comfortable. I always sleep in more clothes than you do.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t. Have you thought of that? Sleeping with clothes on is overrated,” she responded playfully.

He makes a funny sound like he was clearing his throat. He needs a cool sip of water, so he instinctively brings the cup closer to him until he remembers he has his helmet on. The cup just sits there, mocking him. At least it’s a distraction…..

“Once I wake up some more, I was going to give the kid a bath. The little hairs on his ears are getting matted down. Is that ok with you?” she asks Din, who is just loosely holding the cup in front of him.

“Of course,” he replies, “be careful though, he loves to splash.”

She grinned, “I’ll try to keep that in mind. I'll just grab a shower after, so it doesn't matter if I'm all wet when it's over.”

A few minutes later she’s looking much more alert and she disappears into the bathroom to leave him to his thoughts once again. Maybe today he could empty out the pantry and take inventory, a task he had been putting off. He grabbed a pen and paper to start to make a list. The kid ate everything in sight, so they need a plan to be smart until they reached the next port.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of laughter coming from the bathroom.

Cara came out laughing as she walked toward him, her bare feet leaving wet marks as she crossed the floor to him.

“Din, do you have any extra towels, the kid pulled the only one I saw into the bath with him, so it’s soaked,” she asked.

He looked up and instantly wished he hadn’t. He was transfixed. Her thin white shirt was soaked, sticking to her like a second translucent skin.

“Din? Do you have an extra towel or not?”

\--------------

“Din?” she tried again.

\--------------

“Hey...” she asked, her voice rising in inflection at the end. She took a step closer to touch the side of his helmet, "you ok?" 

The touch seemed to have snapped him out of his daze, “huh? Oh yeah, uh……. hold on.” He walked over to a side cabinet and pulled out 3 more white towels.

“Here.” He hands them over and as she takes them from him, her hand brushed against him. He jerked his arm back so fast she almost dropped the stack of towels he just transferred.

“Hey, seriously, you ok? You’re acting funny. Something wrong?” she asked him, concern lacing her voice now. _He was so screwed. He couldn’t even hold it together long enough to convince her he was fine._

“No, I’m fine. I was just lost in thought.” Even as he says it, it doesn’t sound especially convincing to his own ears. Her bullshit-meter is always on point too; no way she’s going to fall for that.

“Okaayy,.......if you’re sure,” she says, not convinced at all as she slowly turns around to return to the shower.

He relaxes a bit as he hears the sounds of bath time resume and he can get comfortable once again. He groans as he realizes how tight his pants have gotten. He was decidedly _uncomfortable_ now as he shifted in the chair to try to adjust himself.

A few minutes later he hears the water turn off and Bean comes waddling out fully dressed and booking it high speed like he was running from something; his little ears still wet since he hated to have them towel-dried.

He feels a laugh bubble up from inside of him. He must have gotten away from her as she turned the water off. He probably should have warned her that the kid tends to do that…

He hears her footsteps getting closer, no doubt coming after Bean.

“Din, did the kid come this way? He got away from me.” She calls as she turns the corner

“Yes, he’s right h—", he stops in the middle of the word as he sees her. 

“Ca—” he can’t even get her name out, “for the love of --,” he gestures to her with his hands, “put some clothes on!” he blurts out as he turns his whole body away from her, not trusting his eyes enough to rely on just turning his head. His eyes were traitors, they couldn’t be trusted.

She legitimately sounds confused as she challenges him, “I was getting _in_ the shower dummy, why on earth would I be putting _on_ clothes right now? Or at least I _was getting in_ until that little snot ran away. Din turn his head slightly to look at her once again. 

She was standing there, hand on her hips defiantly wearing nothing but the small white towel he gave her earlier. The other hand thankfully, had a grasp on the front, ensuring its closure. The width of the towel barely covers the top of her thighs and he can’t take his eyes away.

“That little stinker got me so wet I figured I’d just go ahead and jump in. Is that okay?” 

“Yeah.”

“Can you keep an eye on him for 5 minutes….?”

“Yeah.”

"Do you mind if I borrow your razor, I’ll buy you a new one at the next stop."

“Yeah.”

“Can you say anything other than yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She laughs.

“I mean, yes.”

She levels hm with a serious look as she asks, “you seem off today, you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” _Come on, Din._ He can barely get out two words as he looks at her bare legs, his eyes drawn to where the towel ends and the promise of the dark shadow underneath it is taking all of his brain capacity.

“Ok. I’ll be out in just a minute.”

He tried to not think of her in the shower. Her hands covered in his soap, lathering herself up. His razor running up the long line of her leg from ankle to thigh. He only had a minute to clear his head before she came back out and likely called him on his weird behavior. He took a deep breath and placed the forehead of his helmet on the table to collect himself. Okay, _he could do this. Not thinking about her in the shower…..and go! Shit this wasn’t working._

_………………._

Din was acting weird…..

She wondered what was going on as she took off her towel and stepped into the hot spray of the shower. He would tell her if he was sick, she was sure of it. They were always open and honest with one another when it really mattered. Maybe he was just distracted or tired. That could be it, but it only happened when she walked in the room.......what was that about? Had she pissed him off inadvertently? She couldn’t think of anything.

He seemed pretty happy since she came on board. They seemed to pick up right where they left off. Laughing and sparring and teasing like they had never stopped. When he showed up on Nevarro, she was surprised at his sincerity when he relayed to her his desire for her to join them long-term. He had practically said he missed her in every mannerism, just without saying the exact words. She was honestly happy to join him and the kid again. It was different now though; without the urgency of battle, the dynamic was different. This wasn’t two soldiers hunkering down before a fight; this was friends living together to lessen the burden of living alone; to travel together for the betterment of each other and the kid. They were better together than apart, no one would argue that. The first week had been so easy. _Could she have messed this up already without realizing it? She messed up everything that was good, why would this be any different? The only problem was that for the first time, this actually mattered. She wanted this to work. What was going on?_

He couldn’t possibly be distracted by her. This was Din. The man who could be so focused and dedicated she had no choice but to respect his determination. Despite his layers of armor was one of the kindest people she had ever met and despite their differences their similarities shone though in their every interaction. _They just worked._ They always had an easy camaraderie, right from the start. That's why she was so puzzled now. They had been in each other’s space for a week now, joking and laughing.….. what had changed?

………………..

When she was done, she came out into the large main cabin in another white fluffy towel. “You mind if I dry my hair out here? The bathroom is so steamy I can barely breathe.” She went to stand next to the kid who was standing on the edge of the table, his little body about chest height.

Din says, “sure” as he tries and fails to focus on the piece of paper in front of him next to his cup of water he sipped after she left. Her dark hair was wet and slightly wavy in contrast to the whiteness of the towel. She keeps flipping her hair over the kid on purpose and he squeals in delight at the sensation. Once he’s had his fill, he runs along to play with his toys and she finally gets to actually drying her hair. She flips her hair upside down and uses the towel to dry it in sections. Her other hand is busy holding the front of the towel closed, where she has a small section tucked in. She props her leg up on the storage box beside her so she can put less pressure on her back leaning over like that, and it causes the towel to ride dangerously high.

When she goes to switch hands, her towel opens a sliver and his glass of water spills all over the table, the sound of the metal cup amplified in the small space as it clatters around before coming to a stop.

She rushes to the table, her towel almost slipping in her haste to get to him. She ignores the drink spilled all over the table and dripping onto the floor, as she takes his bare hands in hers, still warm from the bath. “Din, seriously, maybe you should go lay down. Your hands are shaking.” 

She's pulling him up to stand, “come on, go lay down, I'll watch the kid, don't worry about it.” She smells so good, the scent of her shampoo still lingering in her hair. He breathes it in and feels it fill up his chest. 

“Really I'm fine,” he insists as he breathes out. _This is getting awkward. How can he not disguise his adoration of her today? He usually has such a good grip on it. He’s so taken by her…._

“Bullshit,” she spits out, “it's cold in here, and look at you……you're all sweaty. You were breathing weird too, a second ago. If you picked up something at that last port, you might just now be showing symptoms.”

“I'm not sick Cara,” he insists standing up straighter so he can get some air; the feeling of her hands making it hard to concentrate. 

“Then why are you sweaty and unable to concentrate when I ask you questions, huh? And what’s with your hands shaking so bad you’re knocking things over, hmm?” Her hands return to her hips, cinching the towel at her waist, which makes it pull tighter across her chest. The corner she has tucked into her cleavage shifts a little where it's barely folded in, and he holds onto the table as he feels light-headed waiting anxiously to see if it holds. She's not paying any attention to it at all, all her focus is on him. 

_Did he even think this through? What if it gives? Then what? Does he lunge at her, grabbing for her chest to hold the ends together? That would go over great…. Great plan Din._

She doesn’t miss a thing, as her eyes snap to his hand as he grabs the table. Nothing gets by her when she's really focused on something. _Damnit._ “Don't be a stubborn idiot, something's clearly up. Look at you, you're dizzy now. If you're actually sick, you shouldn't be pushing yourself. I can watch him for a while. Go lay down.” He was actually quite touched by her concern. That helped chase away the fuzzy cloud of arousal that was living in his head right now.

“I don’t need to lay down, I got plenty of sleep last night.”

“Fine, have it your way,” she huffs out, “I'm going to get dressed, but don't think you’re getting out of this. Go grab a shower at least, see if that helps.”

“Good idea, I’ll grab a shower”

_He can get himself under control in the shower. Was he really sweating?_

She walks out of the room, the back of her thighs visible at the edge of the towel. He’s practically holding his breath until she enters her room and closes the door.

“Oh, thank God,” he lets out as a thankful sigh he lets slip once she was out of earshot. The kid looked up at him innocently, and Din looks down at him and says, “you were no help whatsoever kid, splashing her like that.” He rubbed one downy ear, clean and fuzzy from the bath.

The kid sensed the tone of his voice and his ears dropped slightly. 

Din corrected, “I'm just kidding, you did a good job kid. Keep up the good work.”

His ears went right back up at his words. All was forgiven.

As she pulls a shirt over her head and steps into a clean pair of underwear, her mind is still reeling with how he's been acting. He said he wasn’t sick, but what could it be?

It was almost like he.....No, she dismisses that thought......

But…… the way he was looking at her…… that was……

No, there's no way he's -----

He not affected by _her_ is he?

There’s no way, _right?_

Sure, they traded of color jokes of a mild sexual nature back and forth, to see who could come up with the lamest one, _nothing wrong with that_. They teased each other with a surprising level of intimacy for friends. They also sparred often, meaning they touched frequently, but he only let his hands linger a second too long every once in a while..... _huh, he did sometimes, didn’t he?_

Actually, now that she thinks about it……

Maybe she was onto something…..

_That's completely ridiculous isn't it? He must just be tired. Everything will be back to normal by tomorrow. He was just having an off day. Just overthinking things as usual- he’s not into you Cara. What a weird start to the day….._

He must be feeling better, since she heard the bathroom fan just turn on. She hoped he didn't mind a cold shower since she used all of the hot water earlier.....


	2. Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When had she started lying to herself? And so poorly? Whenever he spoke to her in his deep voice, she felt it work its way through her body until a shiver overtook her. Damn him and his damned voice. And his laugh…… and his humor-filled sighs….. so expressive.  
> She was so fucked. And the worst part was that he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. I wanted to post this on Monday but I just couldn't hold onto it until then.  
> So, each of these chapters was supposed to be around 1K, but I have failed yet again it appears. *sigh*
> 
> I hope my friends dealing with a rough week will get a few minutes of enjoyment out of it :)

Everything wasn't magically better the next day, but there was a semblance of normalcy that made her feel better. _Yesterday was weird._ As the days passed and they seemed to fall right back into their normal routine, it still felt like there was this faint buzz of something in the air that Cara couldn't explain. 

Whatever was affecting Din must have run its course, but something still lingered.

They landed planetside, which was probably what they both needed; a little break for them to stretch their legs and get their bearings. They each had their list of supplies to pick up and Cara added a new razor to her list. He didn't seem to use the one she had borrowed very much, but she felt like she should replace it anyway. She wondered how long his beard was. Or was it even a beard at all, maybe he just had a mustache? She hasn't thought about what his face could look like under his helmet in ages, since first meeting him really, but that damned razor for some reason made her wonder. She had seen the hair on his forearms a previous time or two, each occasion feeling like a gift, and she had found herself staring at the muscles underneath the coarse dark hair. It likely meant that any hair he had on his head was dark as well. She should just ask him if he had a beard instead of daydreaming about it like a moody teenage girl--ugh. _She wouldn’t go back to re-live those years for half the credits in the system._ She certainly doesn’t daydream about him…….that’s just absurd. At night though, now that’s a different story….

She knew he would answer her honestly, just as he had when she asked him other personal things. “You just can't see my face with your eyes, I can describe what I look like if you want to know,” he had told her a long time ago now. 

Back then she had wanted to prove to him that what he looked like under the helmet didn't matter to her, so she didn’t take him up on the offer. It still didn't matter, but maybe she could just ask about the beard when she gave him the razor. _No harm done right?_ She wasn’t interested _in him_ , just interested if he had a beard or not.

_When had she started lying to herself? And so poorly?_ Whenever he spoke to her in his deep voice, she felt it work its way through her body until a shiver overtook her. _Damn him and his damned voice. And his laugh…… and his humor-filled sighs….. so expressive._

She was so fucked. And the worst part was that he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

The time apart today scouting supplies would serve them well. They were getting a little antsy on the ship and the games they played to pass the time were starting to take a different turn with how weird he was acting.

………………….

She was the first one back to the ship even though she had the longer list to start with. She allowed herself a proud smirk as she thought of how she would ride him about his loss late—

_Rib! Rib!_

_Cara, Rib!_

How she would RIB him about his loss later. _Seven hells, what was wrong with her lately?_ It was too late-the visual was there now, no getting rid of it. It didn’t help that she saw him starting to approach far off in the distance. She allowed herself to watch him as he walked closer. His stride was something that drew her to him from the very beginning. He wasn’t cocky when he walked, but he practically oozed confidence, surety, and determination. It did weird things to her insides, even back on Sorgan. The way his strong thighs weighed down by armor took such even, measured steps…… _and that was only his walk….._ when he truly stalked a target, she almost had to look away now- the way the heat pooled in her belly. The way he lowered himself, matching their feet, their stride, even their breathing without realizing it. It made her wonder how he would match _her_ if he backed her up against a ---

_You know what, screw this. He was still far away, and it would take him another 20 minutes to reach the ship. She would take a cold shower in the meantime._

_………………………._

As soon as he walked up the ramp and the cool air of the ship hit him, Cara was waiting like a predator waiting to pounce, “can I ask you a serious question?”

He squared his shoulders and braced himself. _This didn’t sound good at all. Did she notice the way he had been staring at her? Did she hear him mumble her name while he was sleeping?_

Luckily, she didn’t prolong his torment.

“Din, do you seriously have a beard under that thing?”

“What?” He had been prepared to defend his innocent worship of her from afar. He relaxed instantly as the laugh in her voice registered.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

“I knew it!” She sounded so pleased with herself.

The joy in her face disarmed him slightly and he let slip, “Why do you ask? You spend a lot of time thinking about me and my facial hair when you're lying awake at night?”

She scoffs, at him, “What?” she asked suspiciously, “you’re trying to tell me you don't think about me in that bed of yours?”

She waits to see a dip in his helmet, or some other sign her teasing words came across correctly. Din doesn’t disappoint her when he responds, “to answer your question, I don’t think about your facial fair, that for sure.” She snorts out a laugh.

“Oh no, you can't change the subject that quickly. What do you think about?”

“Certainly not your big mouth either.”

She laughs openly this time; she can’t help it.

_That was a lie_. He thought about her mouth all the time. What she would taste like. What her lips would feel like under his, especially that bottom lip she raked her teeth over so frequently. The way she did that thing with her lip so often, it must feel magnificent to require so much attention. The layer of beskar covering his face had never felt so thick, so impenetrable as it did right now. 

_‘Stop getting yourself worked up,’_ Din tells himself. Cara throws around teasing flirtatious banter all the time, she doesn't mean anything by it. There's no promise there, just looking for a reaction. She just wants a rise out of you. _Thank God he was getting practiced at hiding it or she would see all too well the rise she got out of him._

But, _sometimes_ , especially the quiet times when they just enjoyed being together, he thought he saw something else, _something deeper_ , like she was actually waiting to see what he would say and not just throwing out words to see what sticks. In those times, it really felt like his reaction mattered, like she was nervous, waiting to see how he responded to her come-ons and puns. She was a shameless flirt, but there was no way she was trying to torment him on purpose. She was oblivious to the effect her words had on him. She didn't feel how his heart sped up or how the skin on his neck would flush when she teased him.

That was the problem wasn’t it? She didn't know how much she affected him. It wasn't just her body, like a few days ago when he embarrassed himself when she went to shower; it was more than that. Today it was her voice, her words. Tomorrow it would be something else, her laugh perhaps, and the next day bringing something new. She hit him from every direction, not just a frontal attack he could see coming and brace himself for accordingly. ‘ _Just like she fought_ ’ he thought and smiled stupidly. At the end of the day, armor or no, he was just a man trying to resist her charms; charms she didn't even know she was enticing him with. _How could she not know what she did to him?_

Some days he could keep his head above water, but other days he felt like he was drowning-surrounded by her on all sides. Her body, her voice, her touch, her words, her genuine affection for him; everything seemed to torment him the past few days. It seemed like everything _she was_ called to everything _he was_ and it was getting impossible to resist her. Some dark part of his mind helpfully suggested, ‘ _would it be so bad if you didn't resist? What if you gave in?’_

_What a joke._ He was certain someone like her would never really want someone like him. She was a goddess in every way, and she didn't know the effect she had on him. What if he returned her flirtatious banter and quick innuendo and it accidentally offended her? What if she thought he was some creep and they lost the easy trust they had built between them? Besides the kid inside the ship, her trust was the most valuable thing in his life. He couldn’t risk it, even on the gamble of something better, something _more_ in every sense of the word.

That didn't seem a likely risk though. On the few times he quipped back at her, she threw her head back in a beautiful, genuine laugh, so pure and sweet he would have done anything to hear that sound from her again. She always responded like she…… _liked it_?

Maybe he could just give it a shot and see …

Worst case, she reacted to it badly, and he would just apologize and beg her forgiveness. The Mandalorian warrior in him instinctively cringed at the thought of begging for anything, but the rest of him shivered in anticipation at the mere thought of dropping to his knees in front of her.

………………………..

They slept on the ship planetside the previous night, so they’d be well rested as they prepared to do a full ship diagnostic before heading into space again the next day.

The only problem was that neither one of them slept well at all. Cara was woken several times in the night with the ghost of a beard running up her bare legs. She’d toss and turn to fall back asleep only to be woken again by the feel of it raking across the soft skin of her breasts as his mouth—

_Shit, go to sleep Cara._ She was uncomfortably aroused at this point but refused to give and find the relief she craved with his bunk sharing a wall with hers. She was certain there was no way she could stay silent if she touched herself imagining his beard (that she had never even seen) or his hands as they worked her closer and closer to the edge. She could _not_ moan out his name tonight and then sit across from him at the breakfast table, without the heat in her face giving her away.

_How could he unintentionally torment her like this? Did he know he was doing it?_ The feel of his hands when she held them in her hers was a sensation she couldn’t look past. He was driving her insane and he didn’t even realize it. He was totally oblivious to the effect his hands and his voice had on her. Even when he sat low in his chair, totally relaxed, his knees apart…. or when he’d casually touch his belt or scratch his fingers along his stomach, and she’d see a flash of his muscular abdomen; the skin soft and smooth. _Fuck. this wasn’t helping_.

Din wasn’t doing any better in the next bunk. In his dreams, she encouraged him to pull the towel away from her body and he woke up in a sweat as his mind tried desperately to hold onto the nebulous images from his dream of her perfect body, still wet and warm from the shower as she begged him to touch her. _Fuck…. This wasn’t good. Things were getting worse, he couldn’t even control his dreams now. Awake or asleep, he was screwed on both fronts._

…………………………….

The next leg of their trip could be a long one, so they planned to do some preventive engine maintenance. They moved the Crest’s landing spot much further away from the town, closer to the mountains, but still in the center of a large flat stretch of nothing. _Nothing _was good for security. They could secure the perimeter and not feel exposed from any uninvited guests sneaking up on them from a distance. She was glad they were on the same page about tactical things like this.

This was no desert by any stretch, but the ground was covered in a paper-thin layer of fine sand. Underneath it was a densely packed earth which was surprisingly easy to walk on, yet still soft. This was Din’s kind of ground. If he ever set foot on shifting sand dunes again it would be too soon. There was only one kind of dune he wanted to—

_No! Focus---_

_Engine repair--_

_Integrity inspection--_

_Maintenance checks---_

_Wait, was she taking her shirt off?_

They walked down the ramp to take a look at the left engine together. She felt the sun on her face and the wind in her hair as it whipped it every which direction. She was sweltering in the thick material of her constrictive lined sports bra and tank top under the midday sun. She peeled her shirt off without second thought. It would also double as an oil rag since she was about to climb in the turbine.

Luckily, she immediately turned her back to him as she spoke, “You know Din, we’re miles away from other living things. You can leave your helmet off for a few minutes to feel the sun, enjoy the wind on your face. I'll face the ramp and make sure the little snack gremlin doesn't come waddling out here.”

He couldn’t disguise the surprise in his voice when he responded, “Really? You’d do that?” His eyes were on her shoulder blades, but his heart was focused on the kindness of her gesture.

“Yeah, of course”

“For how long?”

She laughed. “We don’t have to draw out a contract. How about as long as you want?”

“Okay, thank you.” He couldn’t turn down this opportunity: to take off this metal case in the heat, to see nature without a filter, and to be close to her with his face bare. He could really put his eyes on her uninhibited for once. He trusted her. Despite the tension hanging in the air right now between them, he trusted her above all else. He was lucky to have her by his side, watching his back _and his covered face for that matter_.

Din could barely focus on the beauty of the rocky mountains crags of the distant range, what with her dark hair dancing right in front of him. Her hand was resting on her holster. Her hand appeared relaxed, but he knew she was ready to react at a moment's notice at the slightest hint of a living presence that would compromise his uncovered face. _She was magnificent._

Many wonderful and freeing minutes past before she asked, “how long you want me to stay here, Din? You want another half hour?”

_Forever._ He wanted to say but he knew that’s not what she meant.

He placed the helmet back on and said, “I’m good. Thank you. That was nice.”

Her smile was brighter than the sun beating down on them both when she replied, “whenever you want, just let me know.”

He stood underneath the left engine as she climbed inside and the popped out the top, where she was once again in the sun. “There’s some carbon scoring in here. I can handle it if you can pass me the steel wool and that red box of tools by your feet.”

He took care of the cleaning and oiling for the parts along the ground, where he stood in the shadow of the ship.

“Not that I’m complaining about the view, but maybe you should put a shirt on, the sun is going to burn you to a crisp,” he called up to where she was struggling with a particularly stripped bolt.

“In a minute,” she agreed, “I’m almost done up here and we can switch. This shirt is ruined anyway.”

_He can’t believe he just said that. Not complaining about the view? Seriously?_

When they moved on to the second engine, they switched places. Cara cooled off in the huge shadow cast by the Crest and Din wiggled up into the engine and out the hatch at the top. He ended up having to climb back down several times to grab an extra set of spanners and wrenches from Cara. _This was so much easier with two people, especially someone as competent as her. What couldn’t she do? Fighting, shooting, flying, engine work, kid-wrangling; she seemed to find new ways to impress him constantly._

This side of the ship was worse than the other _. Go figure._ They continued their work in companionable silence, a wonderful reminder of their early days and a nice break from their continual give-and-take of jokes and one-liners aiming to get a laugh as a prize.

Cara sees a brown piece of material drop by her feet from up above and realizes he must have taken off the cowl under his helmet. She understood that, it was damned hot up there, and the metallic sheen of the ship just reflected the sunlight and heat even more.

“Din, you alright up there? Should I keep my eyes down here?” she asked in case he had uncovered his face to cool off.

“Everything's fine, helmet’s on, just had to take off that wool layer before I had a heat stroke.”

“You could take your shirt off too if you’re looking for suggestions,” she said with a smirk clear in her voice.

She can hear his throaty laugh from all the way down here. “One of us has to keep our clothes on,” he supplied back to her with a chuckle.

  
“But do we really though?” she questioned, only half joking.

“I’m almost done, I’ll be down in a minute,” he called down to her.

“Without your shirt?” she asked, in a teasing but hopeful voice.

“Cute.”

“Who you calling ‘cute’ asshole?” she asks and hears his chuckle in response. She continues, “on second thought, maybe you should stay up there for your own protection.”

When he climbs down, she can’t help but look at his exposed neck. His skin is slightly darker than hers, so he might have avoided the sunburn she could already feel blooming on her own neck. _Or maybe that was just the heat crawling up her neck from his proximity…_

He turns his head to start loading all the tools and soldering gun back into their respective kits, and in the shadow she can the red blotches showing up already along his collar.

“Do you happen to have any cooling gel or lotion in your medical kit, Din? You’re going to need it later, by the look of your neck.”

“Yes, I should. What about you?” he asks as he makes a motion with his hand indicating she should turn around. 

As soon as she has her back to him, she hears him exclaim, “shit Cara, you’re blistering already. It’s not just your neck, it’s going down your back too.

“Great……,” she complains.

They climb the ramp to check on the kid who’s still sleeping after playing himself to exhaustion and open the seating compartment to get the med kit out. He hands it to her so she can apply it first, but she surprises him when she says, “why don’t you sit down, I’ll do your neck first.” She’s half expecting him to turn down her offer, but he sits down without complaint and leans his helmet forward, exposing his rapidly reddening neck. The implicit display of trust made her stomach twist. She didn’t ever want to do anything that would damage the trust he had in her.

“Be gentle with me,” he requests, with just a little extra puff of air audible through his nose to tell her he was joking with her.

“However you like it, Mando,” She promises as he reaches out for him.

His neck was strong, she could feel the muscles just underneath the surface, still warmed from the sun. there was just the lightest sprinkling of hair she felt as she gently ran her fingers over the surface.

“You want the lotion first, Cara……….. you know, the cooling gel?”

“Huh…. ……….what?” _She can’t believe she forgot the damned gel first. Get it together._

He handed her the bottle over his shoulder as he chuckles and said, “you know, the one thing you need for putting lotion on---the actual lotion?” He can’t even hide the amusement in his voice now. He was glad to know she got distracted from time to time as well. Hers wasn’t for the same reason as his though, he was pretty sure of that.

She chuckled, “yeah……of course. Sorry---got distracted for a second.” She takes it from his hand and squeezes out some onto her fingertips. It’s cool to the touch and it distracts her momentarily.

“You ready, Din?”

His head is still leaning forward but she can hear the smile in his voice. “For you? Always.”

She can’t help the grin as it spreads across her face. “Smooth.”

_Why was her heart beating so fast at his playful words? This was ridiculous. She wasn’t even running her hands lower, down the long planes of his chiseled back or wrapping them around his chest to----_

_She slammed her eyes shut, grateful he had his head turned. His stupid voice, it was his voice’s fault_ …..

She let the cool gel settle over his warm neck as she began to lightly massage it into the skin, careful not to hurt his already damaged nerves. They started talking about the work done on the engines and decided the repairs were all superficial and wouldn’t affect their takeoff. Talking about the maintenance records gave him something to focus on beside the wonderful feel of her hands on him, but she seemed distracted by something. She didn’t even realize it, but she kept lightly going over the same place over and over again. It didn’t hurt at all, but it did draw his attention.

Cara could normally talk technical specs all day long, but she seemed zoned out now. She was acting funny. She was never at a loss for words like this. He silently wondered what could be distracting her. She was just rubbing his neck…..

Maybe the heat affected her more than she wanted to admit. That would be so like her to suffer in silence. They were alike in that respect as well. He hoped she didn’t have mild heat stroke…. She was breathing heavy now though and he could tell she had been biting her lip way more than usual. What could possibly have her this anxious? His thoughts trailed off as she finished rubbing his neck. She seemed much more focused after she stopped.

“There, all done. Feel any better?” she asks him as she finished. If she keeps touching his neck anymore, she can’t be held responsible for her actions. She didn’t want to risk the easy trust he had in her with her hands developing a mind of their own and acting on their own accord.

“Yes, thank you. I feel slightly less sun-baked already.”

She reached behind her own head to push her hair aside. The remaining lotion on her hand would feel so good on her own neck, but the sun-dried skin on her shoulders was so tight it hurt to raise her arms.

“Could you help me too, would you mind?” she asks Din as he stands up and faces her.

He feels warm and cold all over at the same time at her request. He only agrees when he sees her awkwardly reaching around her neck to rub cooling gel onto it. Seeing her struggle to reach the worst parts of the burn chip away at him in a way that makes him feel suddenly exposed. Seeing her discomfort is awful. _He can do this. He can hold himself together long enough to help her feel better, he’s certain of it. As long as she doesn’t talk, or breathe, or smile, or exist……..…shit._

He tries to fill the awkward silence with humor.

“You sure this a good idea Dune?” he asks, only half joking.

“Why? Do you think if you put your hands on my neck you might be tempted to wring it? I’ve heard I have that effect on people.” _Damn her and her smart mouth._

“Only sometimes.” He admits with a grin she can’t see but feels rush through her all the same.

She grins.

“Let me guess,” she suggests with laughter in her voice, “only when I’m running my mouth?”

"Must be all the time then…..” he says and the look on her face is priceless as he apparently said exactly the right thing to be rewarded with a smile showing her perfect teeth.

She can’t keep it in. She laughs, “okay, okay, I’ll give you that one, Din.”

“I like this,” she says without even thinking about the words leaving her mouth. He just has this effect on her without him even realizing it, without him even trying.

“What, me insulting you? You are a weird one,” Din questions her cheekily to keep the mood going.

“No,” she says surprisingly serious. “I mean us just joking around. Laughing. It’s nice.”

“It is,” he admits. “I like it too.”

It’s her turn to sit in the chair but she turns the back of the chair around first so she can straddle it and lean her shoulders and chest over the tall chair back. She practically turns to mush at the first touch of his fingertips on her neck. _It’s not fair he can make her feel like this without even trying._

He first rubs the cooling gel on her neck where the worst of the burn can be found. He then runs his gel-covered fingers down the back of her neck to where it meets her shoulders. She moans at the feel of his fingers brushing over her neck and she hears him let out a moan in response. It was mostly masked by hers but distinctive enough she was sure she heard it. Screw that, she felt it. 

“Mmmmmmm, that feels good,” she lets slip, as he squeezes her shoulders on the good side of the burn.

His hands tense

_Why did he tense just now? Interesting…..was it possible it was…………… her words that made him tense? Was he getting…..worked up by touching her, listening to her enjoy it? Was that possible?_

“God, that feels amazing,” she moans out again as his hands sweep her hair further to the side so he can rub down her shoulder blades. 

She was embarrassed to realize she wasn’t even saying these things to gauge his reaction anymore. She couldn’t keep it in, couldn’t help the words tumbling out of her mouth at how good it felt to have him touch her, and not just in her dreams. She felt guilty though, getting turned on by his hands when he was only trying to help her. He was her best friend, Hell much more than that. He wasn’t interested in her like that, but she couldn’t help it.

As soon as her second moan left her mouth, she feels his hands tense again.

_Hmmmm, two for two. How odd._

She leaned her hands back to rest on his thighs flanking either side of the chair and they were practically vibrating with tension. _Was it possible he wasn’t as unaffected by her as she thought? She was beginning to give it a second thought_. _One way to find out, I guess._

He's rubbing around the cloth seam that forms form the razor-back cut of her bra. He feels her raise one hand in front of her, her fingers fumbling, and then the fabric is suddenly loose as she says, “There, now you can touch everything much easier. Is this better?” She shrugs her arms out of the straps and it hits the floor.

“Yes,” he replies, with the most distracted breathless voice she’s ever heard. _That’s okay, she’s feeling pretty damned distracted and breathless herself right now._

Her head falls back as he presses against a particularly stubborn knot of muscle in her shoulder.

“Ohhhhh Din,” she takes a deep breath and continues, “that feels so good, Gods. Go as deep as you want.” She swallows, and groans out as his fingers dig in again, “yes, just like that.”

His hands were losing their focus and his breathing is audible through the helmet as it’s getting rapid and deep. _Okay……..so maybe he was slightly affected after all._ She felt a rush as the knowledge poured through her. _Oh thank God, she wasn’t the only one. Did he like touching her as much as she did?_ She wasn’t sure but the fact that he seemed to enjoy it all made her bolder. She can’t stop running her mouth when he’s touching her, that’s for sure. This is going to end with her embarrassing herself, but she doesn’t care; not if it keeps his hands on her.

“Your hands on me……it’s so good.” She’s not even forming complete sentences at this point.

She hears Din ask from right behind her ear, “you like it like this?” She can’t help the desperate sound that comes out of her. _His damned voice._

“Yes,” she breathes out. “I like whatever you give me, just don’t stop,” she practically begs, as she arches her back into his hands. His voice is going to kill her, or finish her, she can’t decide. _He seems so into this…._

_She seems so into this._ He has his eyes closed too at this point, just feeling her moving under him. “I won’t. You’re so tigh—your muscles are so tight.” _He’s never heard her sound like this, and it was for him?_ She seemed to react to his voice and grow more and more breathless every word he spoke. _Did he really have that effect on her?_ Too bad he could think about anything logically right now.

When he’s touched every inch of her back and they’re both exhausted from the stress of holding themselves back, he hands her bra back to her; making sure to stay respectfully behind her.

“Here, all done. Sorry it fell on the floor.”

Her voice sounds so pleased when she says, “you could throw it in a fire for all I care right now.”

He laughed.

“It’s dark outside now. We should get in the air.”

She laughed, though he was still standing behind her and couldn’t see her smile. “What does that have to do with me getting dressed?”

“I’d like to not fly us right into a sun because I was distracted when you turned around.”

“Din Djarin,” she asks in mock surprise, her delight obvious, “was that a compliment?”

“You’ve looked in a mirror,” he states simply, “tell me if you think you need any compliments to know you’re beautiful.”

She turns her head to look at his helmet, her mouth slightly open, but he gives nothing else away.

“You should get some sleep so that burn starts to heal. I’ll set our course.”

Then he was gone. He had disappeared up the ladder.

_Maybe there was more to his weird behavior than she originally thought._

_Well, shit._

Once he got to the cockpit and allowed the door to close behind him, he practically collapsed into the pilot chair as he took off his helmet to gulp down cool lungfulls of air.

_What the hell was that?_

_Did she actually…………?_

_Was she actually into …………him?_

_Well, shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!  
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed :) I read them all and they make my day, you have no idea.
> 
> With all the weirdness out there right now, I was so humbled to hear that I provided a few minutes of distraction with the last one :D
> 
> Stay safe out there


	3. The Gamble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “In cards, since that’s totally what we’re talking about right now, if you've been dealt a great hand, a once-in a-lifetime hand, you have to risk big to win big. She looks down at the table before catching his eyes to say in a subdued voice he’s not used to hearing from her, “it could be worth it, the risk I mean; the hand we've been dealt.” She's staring at him intently as if willing him to get her meaning behind her words. “Don’t you think? Do you think it’s worth the risk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, Hi everyone.  
> Again, the goal was 1K and I ended up with this 7.5K monstrosity...... Sorry :( 
> 
> Forgive the numerous typos, I tried to write and post this in a hurry. I'll try to fix them in the next day or two.  
> One more chapter left, before I can get back to my other story <3

Cara slept in later than usual. At first he thought she might be avoiding him after their mutual ….. _umm_.. ….. _enjoyment_ yesterday, but that wasn’t her. If anything, it would have made her even more bold, putting herself right in his face and all but daring him to pretend like it never happened. She didn’t back down from anything. Like he could ever forget yesterday ….

His dreams would never run out of fuel now, and it was entirely her fault.

_Before,_ he could only imagine what the skin on her back felt like as he ran his hands down it. Now he would always remember the smooth expanse of her soft skin that concealed the strength underneath he had admired for ages. The softness of her thick hair was something else he had often wondered about the texture of and now he knew. _What it would be like to bury his face in it…._

 _Before,_ he could only allow his dreams to supply an image of watching her undress in front of him. Now, the smooth motion with which she peeled off her shirt would haunt him every time he set foot in the sun. When she unhooked the closure of her bra and he watched the shimmy she did to let it drop from her shoulders, his mouth had gone so dry his tongue felt like sandpaper. As much as he wanted her to turn around, he would have embarrassed himself irreparably if she had. _Probably for the best…His dreams helped fill in the blanks there anyway._

 _Before,_ he could only imagine the sound of her voice when she was turned-on to the point of frustration. Now, he knew the sound of her breath speeding up, the sound of her deep moan spilling from her parted lips as he touched her. He could never unhear that sound as long as he lived.

 _Before,_ he only fantasized about what her hands on him would feel like. They touched casually with regular frequency, but her hands were _curious_ this time. They were _eager_ to touch him. So eager in fact, she had forgotten the lotion completely. Her fingertips left a trail of fire in their wake that had absolutely nothing to do with the sunburn on his neck. He could practically _feel_ the electricity between them now when they were in the same space.....

And _fuck him_ , her words…..

She had moaned, _fucking moaned_ , that his hands felt good in that desperate breathy voice; begged him to not stop as her head tilted back in pleasure. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to fall asleep again. The way she groaned when she said ‘yes, just like that’ and ‘go as deep as you want’………there weren’t enough showers in the world to deal with _that_.

Seriously, what was he supposed to do with _that_?

Every time he shut his eyes, he saw her and heard her, replaying it over and over in his mind. When he dreamed however, the images changed; they went a step further, but he was always anchored by her voice as she said his name.

He still couldn’t believe it. Did he imagine the whole thing? Did yesterday actually happen? All this time he wasn’t sure what this tension hanging thick in the air was. He thought it was just his own desire, but now he watched her with new eyes. The way she smiled at him, her casual touches, her jokes that made him flush; looking on it with new eyes made him reasonably sure there was something there. He could almost look at her objectively for the first time. What would an outsider see if they saw them together? At the very least there was a chance there might be something more. For the first time he believed she might feel this thing between them too…..

……………………………..

Bean was sitting outside of her door, watching it intently. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary except his fuzzy ears were drooped toward his little shoulders. The kid looks between Din and the door, then back to Din.

He knocks on the door.

*Knock knock knock*

No response

*knock knock*

“Cara? Hey, you ok?” he inquires politely. He’s unsure whether he was able to hide the trace of fear in his voice.

When there’s no response his heart sinks into his stomach. Something’s wrong, she’s the lightest sleeper he’s ever met. Knowing her past as he does now, he understands why.

“Cara? I’m coming in, okay?” he asks again as he opens her door to peer inside. He can see the person-shaped lump under the blanket but it’s shifting and moving uncomfortably.

“Hey, you okay?” He reaches out to hold her ankle through the blanket and he can feel her tremors through his hand and up to his wrist.

“N-n-no.” Her teeth are chattering.

“I can’t get warm and I can’t stop shaking,” she manages to grind out through her teeth between shakes.

He pulls the blanket back to feel the skin of her calf. “You’re burning up.”

“N-no, I’m so c-cold….”

“Hold on, I’m going to bring you another blanket.”

He stripped his own bedding off and carried it to her bunk. He went to throw it over her, but Bean had crawled up and was sitting next to her chest, a little worried scowl plastered on his face.

He puts the blanket down and goes to pick up the kid while saying, “here I’ll take him”

“No, that’s ok, he’s just worried.” She reaches out a shaky hand and barely has the control or dexterity to gently touch the top of his fuzzy head.

"You must have picked something up at the last port. You went to a lot more stalls than I did." Din feels terrible now for stopping there and taking the shorter list.

"It also helps that you have a built-in air filter….” she said jokingly.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I should have gone inst----"

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she cuts him off before he can feel guilty, “I was trying to make a joke. It’s probably just s-sun poisoning, the timing’s all wrong for a cold.” She can practically feel the guilt pouring off of him. _She hates it, this isn’t his fault._ “See you were right D-din, I should have put my s-shirt back on.” He won't let himself get distracted by that visual again. It keeps him awake at night already.

“Sun poisoning, is that a thing?”

“Yeah, you know the systemic symptoms you can get after a bad sunburn: fever, chills or bad shakes, and dizziness or nausea; they all go along with the burn itself.” She sounded as if she’s experienced it before.

He tucks the blanket up higher around her, wrapping it around the kid where he refuses to give up his hard-won ground. “Well whatever it is, I’m sure it will run its course today,” he says assuredly. He hopes she can get some comfort from his words and not pick up on the anxiety he’s trying to mask. He can’t bring himself to think about it being worse than that.

He knew this just needed to work its way out of her system, but he didn’t want to leave her alone to suffer through it. He lingered just long enough for her to ask him, “you got a lot to do today?”

“Not really, why?” Din responded. _She was sick, what did it matter what was on the schedule today?_

“Could you stay here for a while then, help me warm up?” He wants nothing more than to climb in with her; to feel her warmth again, feel her hair, just bask in her presence; but she’s sick. What if she doesn’t have all her mental faculties right now? He won’t take advantage of her for anything but he also won’t leave her alone if she wants him there. “You sure you’re in control of yourself right now? I don’t want to do anything you might regret,” he says to reassure both her and himself.

“G-get in this b-b-bed and I’ll show y-you.” She chatters out. Without her normal voice and playful smirk, the come-on fell a little flat, but he appreciated her intent it all the same. She was well enough to joke at least so that was promising.

He sighs, letting her know he heard her. “I can’t tell if you’re playing or not. You are the most confusing woman I have ever met.”

He was worried when she didn’t argue immediately. _She must be really weakened._ Luckily, it only takes her brain a moment to catch up.

She huffs out a shaky laugh through her tremor. “Don’t worry, I couldn’t even come up with a witty innuendo right now if my life depended on it.” He can hear the smile in her voice this time and that damn smirk is back.

_There she was. He feels better already._

“You must be _really_ sick then,” he says, only half joking. “I felt you though. You’re not that hot, your brain is fine. I’m sure you could still manage to come up with something.”

“You don’t think I’m hot?”

“I thought you weren’t playing?” he said, and the playful tone left his mouth without permission.

“Okay, You’re right. Sorry. I’ll shut my mouth.” She agreed, before completely negating everything that just came out of her mouth by saying, “Now get in my bed and touch me.” She just couldn’t help herself. Well he couldn’t help himself either.

“I feel like we’re still playing.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll be good. Can we play again later though?” she asks hopefully.

“I wouldn’t miss it. I look forward to it now.”

She smiled. He thought he heard her mutter a muffled, “me too” into her pillow.

She pulls the blankets closer to her, practically up to her nose to cover her mouth. She was shaking so hard, from head to toe. This wasn’t just a shiver, this was violent shaking. The kind that made the muscles in her abdomen and lower back seize up with the strain of it. Her ribs would be sore later too.

Watching her like this, he’s made up his mind already. “If you don’t get better overnight, I’m taking you to a doctor,” he says as he strips off his thick long-sleeved shirt so he’s just wearing a t-shirt and sleep pants.

“No, don’t,” she protests vehemently. “We don’t have the money to waste on something stupid like that.”

“Don’t even start,” he argues as he crawls up the mattress beside her, feeling it dip under his weight. The movement of the mattress makes the kid coo unhappily as he’s displaced from his spot until the bed evens out again. Once Din is lying flat behind her he lifts the layers of blankets so he can get close to her underneath them. His idea to share body heat went out the window when he felt the heat of her body against his own. She was already on fire. _How could she be shivering so hard?_

"Is this okay?" he asks, as he cuddles up behind her so she can feel him pressed against her. Heat or not, he hopes she gleans some comfort from his presence at the very least. _How many times had he been sick on his own over the years? Too many times to count. Being able to be here for her like this made him feel like he could actually give her something worthwhile for once._

“Yes, T-thank you,” she murmurs. “Would you m-mind wrapping around me a l-little. She pauses a second before clarifying, “in case you were wondering, I’m not trying to make a dirty joke. I really m-mean it, I'm fucking freezing.”

“I know,” he assures her. He can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s really miserable. The playful tone her voice takes when she’s teasing him is a sound he could pick up in a sea of a thousand voices. “Of course, I’ll do whatever you need, here…” he says, as he takes off his helmet so he can press his face to the back of her head. His foot drapes over hers and his hand rests on her waist, unsure of how high it can go before it’s not so innocent anymore.

She makes a warm, content sound as she relaxes into his hold as much a she can through the shakes. “Why are you so good to me, Din?”

“You know why…” he says before he even thinks about it. _Joking or not, the answer will always be the same_. He cares about her, plain and simple. Lately, the affection he has for her has taken a bit of a turn as it’s grown and changed, but no matter what, that feeling of warmth she gives him will always be there. Even the _slim_ _chance_ that she might feel the same growing, changing, affection he does, makes his heart speed up in anticipation. If they were really moving toward a romantic relationship, it would likely be the best adventure of his life _. She always did run head-first into an adventure, or maybe that was just with him….._

He adjusts again as she continues to shiver. He’s thrown his leg completely over hers now and is spooned up against her from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. The arm he slung over her waist still awkwardly hung over her abdomen, unsure where it should go.

He felt her fingertips gently nudge his own and he pulled his fingers back, thinking he was in the way of where she wanted to move her hand. He was surprised when her fingers found his again and brushed against him once more.

_Oh……. oh. Okay he gets it._

“Is this ok?” she asks, as she barely touches her fingers against his. It’s soft and sweet, and while her fingers are undoubtedly strong, her touch is so soft.

“Yes,” he says in a deep voice, surprisingly filled with emotion. _It was only her hand for stars sakes._ He begins to touch her in return and the give and take of their fingers is both playful and extremely sensual. _Since when could someone’s fingers feel like this?_ It was almost like a surrogate for the rest of them; their bodies, the two of them as individuals growing closer day by day:

_A questioning first touch, each one afraid to make the first move. Not wanting to misstep, they mirror each other, circling each other until the desire to touch grows too great and one of them takes a chance. Touching and retreating, waiting to see what the other would do. Cautiously reaching out and changing course accordingly based on the stimulus they received. Growing bolder with each correct touch, and the desire to seek pleasure from each other. Seeking warmth and comfort from one another…._

Their fingertips explore each other tentatively at first before becoming more comfortable with the foreign concept of another’s touch. She felt his knuckles, the pads of his fingers, exploring as if it was the most interesting thing she had ever felt. He savored the softness of her hand and the way her digits reacted to his touch; they matched his every movement, mirrored his caresses in an obvious sign of her enjoyment. Her fingers brushed against his palm and his thumb brushed the back of her knuckles. Their thumbs caressed one another before Din opened his hand against hers, splayed his fingers and waited. Her palm was unnaturally hot against his as her fingers moved to slot perfectly between his and they closed their hands together. _Had they never held hands before? It certainly hadn't been like this...._

“You know,” Cara starts, when the silence stretches on too long, “this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I thought about us getting handsy in my bed.”

“You think about it often then?” Din asks her, amusement lacing his voice, despite his best attempt to remain serious.

“Mmmhmm,”she says in agreement, “so often.” “Do you?” She asks and then immediately has second thoughts about pushing him with such a leading question, “It’s ok if you don’t. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”

He laughs then, “are you kidding me? I think about it _all_ the time.” _He can’t believe he just said that._ For some reason, a warm Cara with her voice heavy with sleep was easier to talk to about this un-named _thing_ between them. He didn’t have to contend with her beautiful face, her teasing smirk. She might be sick, but she was being surprisingly honest. He wanted to be honest too before he lost his nerve. Din doesn’t overthink it before he says, "if I’m being honest, this is probably the most comfortable I've ever been."

"Me too," she agrees, her voice softer than usual.

“Do you _like_ this,” he asks as he squeezes her hand in his meaningfully.

“Yes, I like _all_ of it,” she says simply. She shifted her leg to press against his.

“All of it? What do you mean? Like what?”

"I like your voice, Din. You have no clue what it does to me.” She doesn’t feel embarrassed admitting it now. He asked, and she answered him honestly.

And apparently, she can’t shut her goddamned mouth now as she continues, emboldened by his warmth behind her and his voice in her ear, “and I like it when you touch me. Do you like it when I touch _you_?”

_He’ll wanted to answer her honesty with his own. This was it……_

“You know I do.”

_His heart was going to beat out of his chest. Could she feel it against her back?_

“Can you lay like this with me again?” Cara asked him, before adding, “maybe when I’m not sick?”

“If you want me to,” Din answers. He can’t think of anything he wouldn’t do if she asked it of him.

“I want you to. I wish you could kiss me.” _Where the hell did that come from? That wasn’t what she was going to say._

“Me too,” Din said before he even thought about it. _Okay, this was getting dangerous. He was losing his filter the longer he lay beside her. When his mouth started making promises before running them by his brain first, he could almost guarantee he would say too much._

"What about this?" He presses his lips into the back of her hair at her neck.

"Yes, do that again," she pleads, as she reaches her free hand around behind her head to sink her fingers into his hair to hold him close.

Din’s mind was racing. _What the hell was he doing? This was not the time to tell her how much he felt for her. And certainly not the time to be pawing at her when she was vulnerable and looking for comfort._ “Cara, we should stop. You’re sick, so you’re not exactly in the right state off mind now. If you mean it, then tell me this all again when you’re back on your feet. If you don't, I won't hold you to anything you've said.”

“Okay, I will. I'll tell you again,” she mumbles sleepily. He sees her eyes moving underneath her closed eyelids and he knows she’s fallen asleep.

Could he really trust what she said? He desperately wanted to believe it. She said she liked his voice, liked his touch, and wanted him to kiss her. When she was well again, perhaps he could find some way to broach the subject with her. Would she even remember her words? She said everything he wanted to hear, but he had to hear it from her own lips when she was at full capacity, or it wouldn’t mean a thing. He buried his face against her hair, breathed her in, and settled down to ride this out with her.

It took almost 2 hours for her to stop shivering completely, even in her sleep. She finally sat up and declared hesitantly, "I think the worst of it has passed. I’m going to get up and make us all breakfast."

Din didn’t want her to push herself. "You sure? I’ll make it this time, you stay in bed a little longer." He places his helmet back on and readies himself to turn on the lights even though the kid is still cuddled up on her pillow.

He untangles himself from the blankets, _her blankets_ _mixed with his_ , and crawls to the edge of the bed, missing the warmth they created together and the softness of her pressed against him. He stands up to leave and hears the kid scurrying across the floor to follow him- he loved breakfast. Before he crosses the threshold into the main space, she calls out to him,

"Hey Din, thanks for sleeping with me.”

He huffs out a laugh at how ridiculous and arousing that sentence sounds at the same time. “I promise you, sleeping with a beautiful woman at her request- the pleasure was all mine.”

He brought her breakfast and carried the dishes back out after she was finished.

After breakfast the kid follows him back to her bunk to check on her. He stands at Din’s feet as they argue back and forth. "Come on Din, I’m sweaty and disgusting. I _need_ to take a shower."

“Do you think that’s such a great idea?”

“Really, I feel much better now. I’m not going to fall.”

Din wasn’t convinced she was well enough. “Prove it. Let’s hear it. Give me your best shot” he challenged, wanting to hear her joke with him to know she was back at one hundred percent.

She laughs too, “Come on Din, I can’t just think of something on demand.”

“Bullshit. You do all the time.”

“Okay….uh….How about this. Next time you’re in my bed it’ll be so hot we won’t want any blankets at all.”

“Hmmm that’s more like it,” he admits with a chuckle. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he says, sounding more convinced of her recovery.

“Wait, you have to give me one back. That’s how this works,” Cara challenged him.

He takes a step closer so his chest is practically touching hers and tilts his helmet down next to her head until the edge is right next to her ear, where his voice is the most audible and says, “okay, what about this,” he lowers his voice, “next time I’m in your bed, your legs will be shaking much harder than they were today.”

Her eyes are huge and dark as he pulls back to look at her.

"Cara?" Din says, hesitantly.

She just blinks at him in response, her lips parted.

“Cara, I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” _Shit, he shouldn’t have said that. “_ You aren’t saying anything, are you upset?”

“No, of course not,” she says as she snaps out of the haze she was floating in as his words registered in her head first, and then pooled elsewhere. 

"That was great," she says as she lets out a disbelieving laugh. “You definitely won that one. A first time for everything I guess…." She trails off as she regains her wits about her. _Her face feels hot and her stomach feels heavy._

"I didn’t make you uncomfortable then?" Din confirms, uncertainly.

That sparks a dirty grin on her face that makes Din feel like he just walked into a trap. She grabs a towel from the top of her foot-locker and crowds him against the door, her chest leaning heavily into his.

“Actually, that’s not totally true. It _did_ make me uncomfortable, but…….” she said, letting her words trail off torturously.

Before he can even begin to misinterpret what she means she presses him against the door way until his back hits the frame, leans up to edge of his helmet and clarifies, “it’s just the right the kind of uncomfortable, the kind I need to go work out in the shower, if you’ll excuse me….”

She proceeds to walk around him completely frozen in the doorway. She squeezed against him despite there being plenty of room for her to pass by. _The grin on her face……..that grin would kill him one day._

He looks down at the kid, who's smiling, and tilts is head to one side at Din’s attention. 

"Ugh… don't give me that look kid. You're way too young to understand that joke." The little green head tilts the other way. Din responds to his nonverbal communication, “no need to rub it in, I already know how screwed I am.” He hears the shower turn on. 

After busying himself with tasks ranging from restocking the pantry shelves to inventorying their ammunition reserves so he can get his brain under control, he feels safe approaching her again. He finds her in the space between her bunk and the laundry room. “My clothes were so sweaty. I was going to do some laundry. You want to throw anything in?” She asks without even turning to face him.

“The kid keeps taking my socks and hoarding them somewhere.” She bends down to inspect under her bed and Din has to swallow, so he doesn’t choke on his own saliva as she stands up to face him empty handed……

She’s doing laundry all right. _In her underwear._

“Aren’t you going to tell me to put some clothes on?” she challenges him, as she takes a step toward him.

“Nope”. He replies. He’s not sure he can form multi-syllabic words anyway.

The grin creeping up the edges of her mouth is so heated he feels his face get hot in response.

“So, you’re just going to stand there and watch me?”

“What would you do if I said yes?” Din asks, playfully.

“What would you say if I told you I wanted you to watch me?” Cara can play this game too.

“What would you say if I thought you were you were dressed like that because you wanted me to watch you?” He ups the ante as he takes a step closer to her

“What if told you that you might be right”. It’s her turn to grin at him as she takes two more steps.

“That’s a lot of hypothetical questions” Din says honestly. It’ll take a long time to work through them all in his head, but she seems to want to do this on the fly.

“I know.” She says. “I’d like to work through them, would you?

Din can only nod. He starts to suggest, “so, do you think we should---"

Bean chooses that exact moment to run between their feet, one of her socks on each of his hands. "You little sneak!" she cries out in mock outrage.

"There’s two of them, where are the rest huh?" She picks him up to pluck the socks from his little grabby hands, but she can’t help but give him a cuddle at how cute he looks getting caught red-handed. She nuzzles his head and looks up at Din. “You were saying?”

“We can revisit it later, don’t worry.” He barely remembered what he was going to say anyway. For someone who wasn’t into babies, she was really great with the kid, and he adored her in return. He must be able to sense her goodness, her kindness, the fact that she gave up everything to help keep him safe. 

“Maybe if you put him back down," Din suggests helpfully, "he’ll lead you to the rest of his stash.”

“Good idea,” she said, as she puts him down and he sits at her feet for a second before scurrying off again.

“It's actually pretty cold standing here like this.” They both laugh. “I really am out of clean clothes though, I’m about to do laundry.”

“Here,” he says as he unbuttons his own over-shirt and hands it to her. She puts it on and revels in the warmth she can still feel from his body clinging to the fabric. He walks over and touches her hand softly before reminding her, “you’re losing your chance, he already took off that way,” he nods toward the door.

“We’ll revisit these questions later then?” She asks him, not wanting to let this moment pass if that was their chance.

“Yes. Later, I promise.” His anticipation is in equal measure to his fear at this point, but he can’t pass up the opportunity for them to lay it all out on the line.

While the picture she painted standing in her underwear got him blazing hot, the vision of her in his shirt made him a completely different kind of warm. It was steadier, more diffuse as it goes through him. He finds a hard time believing that Cara with clothes on could be more beautiful than Cara without, but her wearing his shirt, seeing it hang deliciously open in the front and barely hit the top of her thighs was something else………

He didn’t understand what part of his brain the image of her in his shirt spoke to, but it was a deeper, more primal part than he usually used. Watching her wrap herself in _him_ , in _something of his_ …..it made his chest feel heavy.

……………………

The next two days go by in a blur. Din can feel something changing in the air. He’s not sure what it is, but he likes it. Cara can sense it too. It feels like they’re both on the same page, working together without this nebulous thing hanging between them. Of course, the tension between them is still there but it feels fun, exciting even, instead of something to fear. After all the dishes have been put away from dinner, they’re enjoying a few quiet moments at the common table. The kid is sitting in the middle of the table like it’s his kingdom and they sit in opposite chairs enjoying the companionable silence.

Who’s going to break it first? He wonders.

It's Cara.

_Of course, it’s Cara._

“You want to arm wrestle?” she asks him with a challenging gleam in her eye.

“You mean, do I want to lose?” Din clarifies her question. She’s strong as hell.

“Oh, don't be so hard on yourself…” she says as her smirk grows, “I'm sure your right hand’s getting much stronger by now....”

“My hand is just fine,” he says in a deep voice as he leans closer to her. “Maybe you should spend some time focusing on your own technique,” he says teasingly. He sinks back down lower into his chair and it forces his knees to set just a little wider to compensate. She picked up on his change in posture instantly. _Damn that man. Damn his relaxed stance when she was anything but relaxed, and damn his voice._

“Trust me I do, all the time in fact. You can never practice too much.”

"Yeah?" he asks, as his voice goes even lower. He is so turned on right now.

"Yeah,” she says barely above a breathy whisper. She’s into this whole thing they’re doing right now. “If you ever want to compare notes, let me know. Maybe I could learn something...or show you something even.”

Din’s voice is back to normal when he says, “sorry, I forgot what we were talking about.”

She lets out this completely genuine laugh, but it doesn’t feel at his expense. It’s just happy. She’s still laughing when she says disbelievingly, “I forgot too, oh my God. What were we talking about?” It makes him laugh along with her.

“Oh, I remember now. Okay then, if your arm’s too tired for arm wrestling, what about a nice game of cards?” she suggests, to pass the time.

_What? His brain was still lagging several seconds behind. Cards? He could do cards._

_Ok, yeah. Cards. Cards were safe._

“You seem slightly distracted, Din......what's that all about?” She asks as she leans forward on her elbows, causing the loose neckline of her shirt to gape enticingly.

He tilted his helmet at her and it was as if she could see his face..... his gesture seemed to ask ‘ _seriously, what do you think_?’ She laughed. “You’re distracted by me? I don’t have a distracting bone in my body.” He’s grinning like an idiot under his helmet because of her and she can’t even see it

_How could he have lived without her here for so long? The lonely days, the empty and quiet nights. Not having anyone to share things with. To laugh with, to laugh at. Even her jokes at his expense were infused with a warmth he didn't know existed before now. _

"Sure Cara, I’m up for some cards."

She’s already reaching over to grab the deck that resides on the counter

“You're fine with poker, 5-card or 7?

“Yeah, let’s stick with 5, that’s easy enough. Though you're the one who taught me this game, remember? You’re much better than I am, so I'm at a disadvantage”

“Strip?” she asked, as the removed the cards from the box.

“Wait, what?” _Did he miss a while other chunk of conversation again? Did his brain zone out?_

“We playing _strip_ poker?" she asks like she's already assumed that's what they're doing. "It’s better than playing for credits when we split expenses anyway.”

“Uhh…," he manages as his mouth runs dry. "We can't, the kid’s sitting right there.” They both turn to look at Bean sitting right in the center of the table and he preens at the attention, his ears flexing just a little as he sits down. He looks so pleased with the situation. _His kingdom indeed._

“Okay, fantasy strip poker then” She concedes

He huffs out air in amusement, “what is that?”

“Where you imagine it, of course. When the other person calls at the end, you have to state what’s been taken off already. Don’t worry I’ll show you.”

_He can’t possibly see how this could go in his favor, but Cara looks so pleased with herself he agrees to it. She could probably walk him straight off a cliff with a smile on his face. He was so fucked._

“Helmet’s obviously off limits,” she states simply.

“I thought you said it was just pretend,” Din reminds her.

“Even pretend, it’s off limits.” She’s just setting the ground rules.

“Ok.” Din’s ready. He probably won’t come out on top, but he doesn’t mind if Cara does. _Let’s do this._ “You gonna deal first?”

She cuts the cards and shuffles them until she’s happy with the results. The first hand she gets is a total bust. Her pair of 2s loses to Din’s pair of Jacks.

“You won, so what do you want me to take off?” She asks din, congratulating him on his win.

“I get to choose?”

“Yep”

“Your boot.” He says. _Start easy, don’t be too overeager._

“You've got a thing for my feet I should know about?” she teases him.

"I've got a thing for your _everything_ ,” Din says honestly, “but you still haven’t taken off the boot.” She can hear the humor in his voice when he says, “You going to strip or keep running your mouth?”, watching her grin spread higher up her cheeks, “nevermind, don’t answer that, it was rhetorical.”

“Okay, okay. I’m unlacing it and placing it on the floor next to the table. Can you imagine it?”

“Yes,” he answers her.

_He can imagine it, clearly in fact. _

_Oh shit. He sees where this game is going._

“What are you imagining?” she asks him innocently, just to make sure he understands the rules of the game, of course.

“Your uncovered foot, the sock still in place.”

The next hand went to Cara, and she was smug as shit about it. He wasn’t sure why she was so pleased; it was only 3 4s.

“Boot. Lose it,” she directs him, gesturing to his foot with her hand of cards.

……………………………

Many rounds of reshuffling and dealing cards later……..

“It's getting late, you want to call it a night?” Cara asks, as she watched the kid drifting in and out of sleep.

“Sure, who won?” Din asks, even though he’s pretty damn sure it was him.

“Well, what did you take off? What's the score?” she asks him to recount his performance.

“My right boot, left boot, right sock, left sock, and that’s it. So that’s 4.” Din says smugly.

_It’s her turn next._

“I took off my right boot off first. Then I had to lean over to take the left one off. It’s hard to do with such a low-cut shirt, you know. I bet you could see right down it the whole time. Then the socks came off. It felt so good for my bare feet to touch the cool floor. I feel so warm for some reason. That set of 3 7s you had beat my pair of 5s and pair of kings, so then I took my shirt off. It was really tight, so I had to really pull hard to peel it over my head. At least I had a bra on underneath it. I don’t always wear it, you know. Are you imagining it?”

“Yes.” _God damnit Cara. Of course, he was imagining it. He could picture her perfect shoulders, her collarbones, and lower…. her prefect breasts and taunt stomach._

“Then I lost _again_ and I had to stand up to unbuckle my belt so I could slide my pants down my legs before stepping out of them and kicking them away. There’s not a lot of room on this side of the table so I had to stand right next to you. You remember? They landed in your lap and they were still warm from my legs. Are you imagining that too?”

“Yes, I can see it.” The voice he used want straight to pool in her belly. It was the same voice he had asked in her ear when he asked ‘do you like it like this’ the other day.

“Finally, your pair of kings beat my pair of 10s and I went to unhook my bra, but my hands were too sweaty. You helped me get it open before letting is slide off to rest on the table. You couldn’t stop staring when the cool air hit my skin. Did you imagine that too?”

“Yes,” Din somehow manages to get out. His voice doesn’t even sound like his own at this point.

“So, what am I wearing right now then?” Cara asks him leadingly.

“Nothing,” he answers, quickly.

She chuckles a knowing little laugh that goes right to his crotch. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, Din. Weren’t you paying attention? I still have on my panties. The fabric is so soft you can’t help but reach out to touch it. They're black, and sheer, almost completely see-through in the light, and really, really tight. I might need your help getting them off if I lose again.”

He finds his voice as the pieces start to click together. _That little shit._

“You know,” Din starts, “you used to be so good at poker, you always won. Are you _sure_ you didn’t lose on purpose? Her grin is positively beaming now. “I admit to nothing. Maybe today just wasn’t my _lucky day_ ,” she says in a way to suggest anything but.

“Whose lucky day is it?” he can’t help but ask.

“That remains to be seen. You want to go another round and see if I lose again? Can you imagine that………..if I lost again?” She tries again, “would you help me take them off?”

His normally intense imagination is almost completely useless at the lack of blood in his brain. 

“Cara…. I want……I do……. I just don’t want to ……mess this up. I don't know how to talk about this.”

“Then don't talk about _this_. Talk about cards. Cards are easy.”

_He could barely speak he wanted her so badly. It was finally clear, she wanted him too_. The fact that she desired him took away all higher brain function. He just had feelings and thoughts at this point; things like ‘ _Cara_ ’ and ‘ _want_ ’ and ‘ _yes_ ’.

“Tell me Din, how much do you know about the theory behind card games like this one?”

He had no clue where she was going with this change of topic, but it gave him a blessed moment’s reprieve from embarrassing himself expressing what he wanted. _What he wanted with her…._

“Ummm,” he barely managed to say, as he actively wills his higher brain function to return. “It’s about luck, being dealt a good hand.”

She seems really focused on this talk about cards for some reason he hasn’t figured out yet. “Sort of,” she says. “The cards you're dealt, that's just chance. The _real_ game is watching you partner, their little signs, mannerisms, tells they give up, to see what they're thinking. It's all just strategy, moving offensively and defensively and thinking two steps ahead.”

She continues, “there's something to be said about learning someone else; connecting to someone else; learning their strengths and weaknesses, don't you think?” Her leg finds his under the table and runs her foot up his calf

“Yes.” He got the feeling she wasn’t just talking about papers squares with numbers printed on them anymore.

“In cards, since that’s totally what we’re talking about right now, if you've been dealt a great hand, _a once-in a-lifetime hand,_ you have to risk big to win big. She looks down at the table before catching his eyes to say in a subdued voice he’s not used to hearing from her, “it could be worth it, the risk I mean; the hand we've been dealt.” She's staring at him intently as if willing him to get her meaning behind her words. “Don’t you think? Do you think it’s worth the risk?”

He _gets it_ and he feels lightheaded knowing she _gets it_ too. “Yes,” he manages to get out, “but, what if you lose…… at _cards_ I mean,” he added on to the end. “What if you try to play the best you can, but you mess it up?”

She smiled at him, “you won't. There’s no such thing as a purely good hand or a bad hand. You have to use strategy and if the game ends up not going how you want, you just reshuffle the cards and try again. We’re pretty good at turning a situation around if it takes a wrong turn aren’t we? You have to ask yourself, ‘is the reward greater than the risk?’”

“Yes, of course it is,” Din says like it’s really that easy.

“There you go then. If you think you have a hand worth taking a risk, you raise the stakes and wait and see what your partner does, how the chips fall. You’re not going in blind though. A lot can be given away by looking at someone’s face, listening to their voice, the movement of their hands, their little tells.” She laughs, “Actually, when it comes down to it, you probably have the best poker face in the system.”

Din says, “I don’t know about that, it seems like you can see right through it.”

“What am I seeing right now then?” she asks, uncertain. _She’s not as sure as he seems to think she is. She’s worried she’s not reading him correctly._

There too many things going on in Din’s head at one time. Only one thing actually matters. “Are we actually talking about cards? Or is this a euphemism for what’s going on here……..us, I mean?”

“I’m not talking about cards,” says Cara, “I think I'm all out of poker metaphors anyway.”

Din surprises her by saying, “well I'm not. You’re the champion of coming up with the lamest puns, so this is my entry. He reaches across the table to take a hold of her had. It’s so warm in his. Her skin is flushed.

“This,” he says, as he caresses the back of her knuckles, “is the best hand I’ve ever been dealt, and I’d be willing to double down on it and take the gamble if you are.”

Her eyes are shining more than usual, and her laugh sounds suspiciously wet as she chuckles at him. “That was pretty lame, Din. But it was great. I can’t possibly top that one.” She laughs and he laughs in response. They’re laughing like idiots and it’s not entirely clear why.

“Don’t laugh,” Din says, still laughing, “it was your lame metaphor, don't blame me.”

They stop laughing and he still has his hand on hers when he asks, “so this…........... we might…….?”

“Is this.................. is it--?” he starts again, unsure how to ask what he’s asking. He sounds like he doesn’t quite believe it’s real. _She doesn’t quite believe it either._

She tries to succeed where he failed so adorably, “you and me, I mean. We're.......……….?”

_Okay, so she was terrible at this too._

She just has to make sure one more time. Make sure this wasn’t a case of wires crossed or a misunderstanding.

She tries one more time, “we’re trying this then. For real?” she asks.

"Yes." He says squeezing her fingers.

"Okay.” She squeezes his back. "Okay," she says again, this time mostly to herself.

“So am I still imagining you naked or…..?” Din asks, to relieve some of the tension.

She laughs then, a real laugh. “Not naked. We didn’t play the last round. Jeez, weren’t you paying attention at all?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Din says unapologetically, “I was too busy being distracted by you _almost_ naked to realize you were only _almost_ naked.”

"You saying I distract you?" the playful tone of her voice was exactly what he needed to reassure him right now.

"You know you do." _Damn his voice._

"Maybe…..,” she pondered, “I’m not completely convinced yet."

"How can I convince you?"

She smirks at him and bites her lip. "Why don’t you go put the kid down and get back to me,” she says, and she hands Bean over to him, his little face tired from fighting sleep so long. “I’m sure you can think of something, use your imagination.”


	4. Unarmored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was either going to be torturously slow or downright explosive in its intensity. Knowing Cara and how she came at him, he would put money in the latter. His own hands were itching to touch her, but he could appreciate her beauty, and her strength, and her everything for a while longer at a distance. This would happen naturally as it always had. He was in no hurry to rush it……well, maybe just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! This is the final chapter.  
> Happy Saturday everyone

Their system-hopping looking for leads was getting exhausting. At least they were together-that was something he wouldn’t take for granted. For someone who had lived on his own for most of his life, after just a few weeks with Cara by his side again, he couldn’t even begin to imagine going back to a life like that. All of the time and energy he had put into forcing himself to stay inside the nice little box labeled ‘friend’ had been for naught. This whole time Cara had wanted him, and he had wanted her.

Things were changing now though…..

The past several days they had touched more, stared longer, and generally just stayed close to one another in a way that was entirely new and exciting. _The beginning of a new adventure they were beginning together._ Bean seemed to revel in it, not really picking up on the motivation for their closeness. His two favorite people were always next to one another, and that was enough for him. 

Din was still surprised. _Just how long had they been so oblivious?_ She had admitted that She liked his voice, his touch. How long had he not noticed that...?

He thinks of her first days on the ship when she was still familiarizing herself with the inner workings of the Crest’s flight systems. She had been sitting in the pilot’s seat when he came up behind her to see if he could answer any questions she might have. They had decided to take the controls in shifts until they were safe in hyperspace. Having a second set of eyes had been wonderful; he couldn’t remember the last time where he got to take a break, even with someone else around. His trust didn’t come easily with anyone except her, a fact he still didn’t understand. He couldn’t remember exactly what was said, _her wit was always so quick_ , but whatever joke she had made, had gotten a laugh out of him and he had placed his hand on her shoulder and leaned over her to check the series of switches. She had shuddered, and when her breath caught in her throat, he pulled his hand back cursing himself for making her uncomfortable already. She had looked at him point blank with her dark eyes and he had forgotten what he came to ask her. Looking back at how she had looked at him, her body’s reaction to his touch, could it have been possible that even back then she had been attracted to him? There were so many of these instances he kept running over in his mind looking for clues….

He never got the chance to really joke around before and he never thought of himself as funny, but she just brought out this humor in him he didn’t even know was there. Spending so much of his time alone, his internal monologue was constantly running, but when she had come along and he found himself spending hours at a time by her side, he found that he actually liked filling the silence. When he realized she found his jokes funny, it gave him the courage to laugh and joke with her more often. She’d listen to him tell stories after they finished their work for the day on Sorgan, and she shared her own with him, but there were instances that stood out in his mind even now; times when the sun had gone down and they were both tired, but neither wanted to pull the trigger to separate for a night’s sleep. They’d sit side by side with either their legs or their arms touching and one of them would take over the conversation as the other would just listen. One time, she had leaned her head back and it had lolled against his shoulder just enough that he could feel the cushion of her hair as she laid on it. Her eyes were closed, and he thought she had fallen asleep, so he had quieted down, stopping his running commentary on whatever droll subject they had been stretching out for hours in a bid to not go their separate ways. He heard her voice heavy with sleep mumble his name and “don’t stop talking, I like your voice.”

At the time he figured she just liked having a voice in the dark to concentrate on, but _now_ the way she had said it hinted at something else….. Even all the way back then, there had been something just under the surface. He chuckles to himself at how badly he would have messed it up if he had noticed and tried to act on it back then. He was so taken with her then and had no clue how to impress someone like her. He was almost glad they had all these shared experiences under their belt before they began to shift slowly from friends to lovers. It wasn’t something they had to try for, it just naturally happened. Getting to where they were now from where they had come had been a hell of a wild ride, one that would continue for the foreseeable future if he had any say in it. It was better happening gradually like this, he has no doubt, despite the initial attraction he is finally realizing emerged so early on.

……………………….

There were precious few quiet moments where Cara was allowed to just sit and contemplate anything. He had said he was affected by pretty much everything she did. Was he exaggerating? Was he trying to flatter her? He didn't lie, so that was off the table. How long had this been going on? He had called her beautiful, what the hell was that about?

The other day she had been wearing a towel when he had spilled his cup of water all over the table. He wasn’t usually that clumsy. She felt like he had been watching her, but she couldn’t be sure. It had only been when her towel had almost slipped his arm had flinched sending his cup clattering across the even surface. Maybe he had been into what he saw after all……

_Wait, if that was true, then what about that time when asked him to look at her ribs when she took that hit to her side…..?_

When she had pulled her bra out of the way so he could feel up the side of her chest, his hands had been shaking. She thought it was just from the fight, but that had been over for more than an hour by that point. His first sharp intake of breath followed by the way she could hear him forcing even breaths through his helmet had made her worried for his well-being at the time, but maybe it was something else…….

She also remembers times where she had easily gotten the upper hand sparring with him. While it had surprised her at the time, now maybe he was just distracted. One time in particular she had just woken up and she was surprised to see him already awake too. She was trying to convince him to have an early morning workout before the sun came up and she had beckoned him closer with her hands as she had bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet, ready for him to come at her. She was wearing her soft sleep shorts and loose linen shirt. In her haste to get this started before he backed out, she hadn’t even gone inside to put on anything supportive underneath. Who sleeps in a bra anyway? _Weirdos, that’s who._ She had capitalized on his apparent carelessness at the time and landed him on the ground easily. Looking back on it now though, he had been oddly focused on her as she had bounced foot to foot in excitement waiting on his first move. His helmet had been tipped down just slightly, barely looking at her face at a---

_Seriously?_

When he had managed to get her on the ground a few minutes later he had practically jumped off her like she had burned him. Now that she thought about it, his retreat was maybe a bit _too_ quick to be an accident......She always thought it was because he didn't want to hurt her, but maybe it had been something else the whole time…..

She remembers taking his hand as he helped her out of that stupid krill pond after taking down the mech they had baited into a trap (which was pretty brilliant if she did say so herself). Rising from the pool, she had the brightest smile on her face she could remember sporting in almost a decade, and it was because of him. He had joked with her and fought beside her, and his company was quickly becoming something she cherished more than she cared to admit. Tiny chitinous bits of shells and legs were everywhere. She could only imagine how much worse it was for him. How could he stand it? She started stripping her armor off piece by piece, not even thinking about turning her back to him when the angle called for it. When was the last time she had turned her back to anyone? Her trust didn’t come easily with anyone except him. When she turned back around, he appeared fixated on her movements. She expected him to start removing sodden Beskar as well, but he was frozen. She just chalked it up to the overall weirdness of that night but now……

The fact that he had left her twice and come back for her each time was something to ponder another day….

……………………….

Din’s thoughts kept drifting back to her instead of the charting he should have been knocking out. How long had they both been blind to this? And why was that, he wondered? It was probably because they grabbed on to this unnamed _thing_ they had found in each other with both hands, ready to do anything, _ignore anything_ , to keep it. The easy friendship they fell into was something neither of them had ever had before. It was easy to focus so intently on not messing it up; so much in fact, that they couldn't see beyond it to what else it could turn into.

This was either going to be torturously slow or downright explosive in its intensity. Knowing Cara and how she came at him, he would put money in the latter. His own hands were itching to touch her, but he could appreciate her beauty, and her strength, and her _everything_ for a while longer at a distance. This would happen naturally as it always had. He was in no hurry to rush it…… _well, maybe just a little._

………………………

What he didn’t appreciate was getting shot at for no reason on their latest fact-finding mission. How was _he_ supposed to know these people had a bad run-in with a con-man dressed in Mandalorian armor? What were the chances? He should have known something was off when the two of them and the kid walked into the local watering hole and all eyes turned to them. The kid was tucked into Din’s chest so very little of him was visible, but himself and Cara drew enough suspicion on their own. He certainly couldn’t blame anyone for taking a second look at _her_ , that’s for sure. A sinking feeling settled into his stomach as he saw a few men casually walking toward the main exit. He tilted his head toward Cara to signal her, but he could already see she was on edge. He entire posture had changed, maybe even before his own. She was tense, he could see it seeping out of her, and she angled herself closer to Bean without even realizing it.

Cara had thrown herself into the fight with her usual gusto, but when it became clear they were outmatched, she hadn’t retreated with him like he expected. She had covered him and Bean, yelling at him to get the kid out of there. She had put herself between Din and the attackers and he had had no choice but to make for the exit as the firefight picked up intensity; Bean was totally unprotected like this. If he could have taken off his armor and wrapped the kid in it, he would have.

The 15 seconds it took Cara to run like hell out the door after him felt like they were passing in slow motion. Leaving her behind, even for just an instant to get the kid out of the line of fire, was the worst feeling he could remember. There were far fewer assailants pursuing them than there had been before though; Cara must have seen to that. She was a damn good shot, and somehow her aim improved under pressure; he had never seen anything like it. It was almost like the fight, the stress, the added pressure made her _more_ calm, _more_ focused. It didn’t make any sense but damned if he wasn’t glad she was on his side.

When they got back to the ship the adrenaline must have been wearing off because she was leaning heavily against the wall. Her hand kept pressing into her thigh and where he usually had to practically bribe her to sit down after a fight (she made him nervous with all her anxious energy), she sat down at the main table on her own. That drew his attention all by itself.

“You okay?” he asks, concern clear in his voice.

“Yeah, my leg just hurts,” she says in a voice highlighting her annoyance at being caught sitting down.

“Let me see it” he says as he tries to get her hand away from it. He’s already moving to kneel before her when she turns her leg from him and presses her palm more firmly against it.

“Really Din, it’s fine. Don’t fuss,” she scolds him for worrying about her.

“You’re hurt, let me see it. Stop being so stubborn,” he scolds her right back

“Me?” she asks incredulously. “That’s coming from _you_? Are you _serious_? You’re the most stubborn idiot I’ve ever met.”

He makes to move her hand himself and she slaps it away, but that displaces her own hand for a split second; long enough for him to see the discoloration on her pants.

He sees a dark spot and he’s not sure if it’s blood or a burn.

She knows he saw it and gives up trying to block his view with a surrendering huff.

  
“It’s not that bad,” she reiterates again as he tries to get a look at it unimpeded.

“Let me be the judge of that. Take off your pants.”

“ _Really_? _Now_? You’re coming on to me _now_? You aren’t going to romance me a little bit first?” she asks, trying to distract him.

“Maybe I need your pants off for the romance part?” he suggests helpfully, as if she should have already come to that conclusion herself.

“You’re ridiculous,” she states, as she unbuckles them easily, indicating to him at least her hands aren’t shaking. The rush of adrenaline from her injury couldn’t have been that intense. _That’s a good sign_. She starts to slide them down and grimaces as the fabric pulls against her thigh in an unpleasant way.

  
“Here let me help,” He suggests. “Can you lift up for a second?”

She lifts her hips, and he pulls the waistline down to the top of her thighs.

“You ready?” he asks, getting her attention so she doesn’t startle at the next part.

“Yeah, just do it,” she says with her lips pressed into a firm line. She doesn’t give away any other sign of the pain she must be in.

He peels the fabric down and feels it stick where it’s adhered to the damaged skin. He pulls the charred fabric away relatively easily and he’s relieved to see the blast didn’t make its way into her leg; it was luckily just a burn. The thick, resilient material of her pants must have absorbed most of the energy; she’s going to have a hell of a bruise though. He gently pulls the pants down her calves and off her feet, turning them inside out as he goes, before casting them aside.

“There’s very little blood, that’s good,” he says from in front of her. He’s balanced on the balls of his feet and his hands are resting above her bare knees. Absentmindedly he starts rubbing his hands soothingly over her thighs in a gentle sweeping motion without even realizing it.

She lets out a groan and he abruptly pulls his hands back and apologizes, “sorry, I know that must have hurt, I didn’t mean to---”

“No, it’s the opposite,” she says, taking him by surprise.

“What do you--Oh.” he says, lamely as he catches onto her meaning.

“It feels _good_?” he asks, just to be sure. This is still new to him.

“Yes, don’t stop,” she encourages him as he kneels before her.

Something clicks in his head. _He’s been here before. Her injured in front of him, letting out a moan or a muffled sigh when he tended to her injuries._

“Wait, have you done this before? That time when…..your ribs……?” he asks her, as the pieces fall together. He still can’t believe it though. Had she liked him touching her even back then?

“Maybe,” she answers cryptically with a tease in her voice.

“Stars, Cara,” he exclaims disbelievingly, as he remembers the feeling of her voice in his ear as he touched her. “Do you have any clue what that did to me? I could barely sleep for days after hearing you moan like that.”

“I’m sure I have no clue what you’re talking about….,” she trails off in a voice that reveals she knows _exactly_ what he’s talking about.

“No clue, my ass…..” he says under his breath but definitely loud enough for her to hear it.

“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, Din. That’s teasing.”

He laughs

“You should probably check if my ribs are broken now too. I fell pretty hard back there. She peels off her shirt. If her ribs had been broken it would have been excruciating, but he was too far gone to notice those kinds of details.

She places his hands at the bottom of her warm ribcage.

“Well?” She asks, awaiting his verdict.

“Looks good,” he states, a little distracted.

“You’ve broken a rib before. You can’t just look, you have to feel,” she reminds him, as if he doesn’t know.

He lets his hands flex in a gentle squeeze. “Feels okay,” he concludes.

“What about higher?” she asks, as her hands rest over his and raise them another inch or so into territory that’s not exactly all ribs. His thumbs brush against the curve of her breast as they move to caress her.

“Are you teasing me?” he asks her playfully. He’s certain she is, but he wants to hear it from her own lips to be sure.

“Why, you feel teased?” she asks him, hoping her intent is coming across clearly.

“I feel something….”

“Me too. don’t stop. I love your hands on me.” Her breathing is already picking up and she takes a deep breath to push her chest more into his hands.

He flexes his hand again and soothes his thumbs over her soft flesh still encased in fabric, but no less tempting. When his thumbs press inwards, she gives so beautifully. How can she be so soft here?

“Still okay,” he concludes as he doesn’t feel anything broken. _Except for his self control._

“What about here. What does that feel like?” She asks and her voice had completely changed pitch by now.

_Okay, there’s no pretense of checking her ribs any longer as she’s moved each of his hands to cup her breasts entirely._

When he flexes his hands to squeeze this time, it pulls a moan out of her. The sound of her pleasure makes him moan in response. She arches her back slightly to encourage him to keep massaging her.

“Why don’t you take off your pants too? It feels unbalanced, me sitting here like this,” she says only half joking. _She wants his pants off yesterday._

“You’re playing with fire,” he warns her as his brain tries to convince him of a reason to not undress along with her.

“’Too late, I’m _already_ on fire,” was her response.

“Me too,” he says. He’s on fire anytime she’s near him, but this is excruciating.

“Taking off your pants would help you cool off, don’t you think?” she says so innocently and convincingly he can’t help but breath out a laugh at her persistence.

“Cara, I—"

“You’re really going to make me touch myself again tonight?” she asks, like it offends her even having to consider it as a backup plan.

“Are you?” Did he hear her right? She was going to touch herself because he got her riled up?

  
“Yes, aren’t you?” she admits easily, and asks him in return.

“Well I certainly am _now_ ,” he says and the thought of her thinking of him is making it impossible to think. He shifts, trying to find a position that’s more comfortable without embarrassing himself.

“What are you going to think about?” she begs him to answer before she continues, “so I can imagine it when I have my hand between my legs.”

 _Fucking hell, Cara. He can never unhear that._ “Your hands, your mouth, the way you’d feel if I went d—" He has to stop and take a breath.

“Fuck, Cara,” he lets out involuntarily, as the visual hits him full on again.

“Yeah, I’ll imagine that too. Don’t stop.” “What do _you_ think about when you touch yourself?”

“I think about the way yo—"

The kid lets out a cry that makes them both jump. He must have woken up. _Whatever magic powers he possessed paled in comparison to his ability to know precisely when they wanted some time to themselves._

“Ughh, I’ll get him, Din volunteers but he desperately needs to cool off before he gets to Bean. “He’s just too worked up to sleep. The gunfire from today must have given him nightmares. I’m sorry, we’ll have other chances.”

“I know we will, don’t worry about it. Bean needs you,” she says, truly understanding his priority. It actually makes her heart warm to see him so concerned for the kid. He was right, they will have plenty of other chances. She can’t pass up the opportunity to leave him with a parting thought to ponder though, _she loves getting the last word._ “Since he’s awake now, does this mean I have to try to muffle your name when it comes out of my mouth in ten minutes?” She squeezed him through his pants as she asks if he’s in the same boat as her, “you going to think about me too?”

“Yes.” He reaches up one last time to caress the warm skin of her chest. “I always do.” She opens his hand and encourages him to squeeze, so his entire hand is full of her. “You’ll think about this?”

“Yes,” he says breathlessly, as he closes his eyes to focus on the feel of her soft and yielding under his hand _. Shit, they’re getting right back to where they were a minute ago. He needs blood back in his brain._

They hear another mewling sound. The kid is getting upset, and she walks to Din’s bunk to retrieve him from the pram as Din recovers.

“It’s okay Bean. You’re okay.” She soothes the kid as she comforts him against her chest. “You think Din’s going to let anything bad happen to you? Not in this lifetime buddy,” she says, bouncing him a little as she reassures him. “See. Here he is,” she states as he hands him over to Din.

“But seriously,” she says, “if he’s up half the night wake me up and we’ll switch so you can get some sleep too. We can split the night if he won’t go down.”

“Okay. Thank you.” His free hand drops down and lingers on the small of her back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, knowing he has a long night ahead of him. Most of it will be spent not thinking about her in her bunk.

“You know, if he stays up all night, he’ll probably be pretty tired tomorrow,” she says knowingly.

She can feel the heat of his gaze through his visor.

“Yeah, he’ll probably sleep for hours,” Din agrees.

“Just sayin’,” she says with a smirk, as she turns and walks away.

Din turns to the little grumpy face of his kid and asks, “You want to stay up all night with me, kiddo?” Bean seems to love this idea and he perks right up at the invitation.

…………………………

The next day brings a ton of boring tasks that are important for ship maintenance but hold no real entertainment value. The only entertainment comes after dinner when Bean has fallen asleep and they clear out the common area for a round of sparring.

“What are the rules? Din asks, as they frequently change to keep them each on their toes.

“A piece of armor lost per point? We’ll fight in full armor?” She suggests the rules for gaining points and the level of armor they will be wearing.

“Yeah, it’s good to practice in full gear since that’s most likely wheat we’ll be cornered in,” Din chimes in.

“I don’t wear as much armor as you do so I’ll be out of pieces first, doesn’t seem fair is all,” she complains. She never likes being at a disadvantage if she can help it. _Losing sucks, even to him._

“You worried you’re going to lose, Dune?”

“Not a chance.”

“To score a point is _what_ this time?” he asks, to clarify what triggers the loss of a piece of armor.

“When you’re pinned, either on your stomach or back. A choke hold or arms behind your back counts too.” _There are too many specific examples to list._ “Basically, any hold one of us can’t get out of without resorting to dislocation or worse,” she spells out the rules so they’re on the same page.

“Are dirty moves and low blows in, or are we fighting honorably, like would _never_ happen in an actual fight?” he asks, so they know what level of ‘dirty’ they’re working with.

“I’d like it if you didn’t shatter my nose, but I love a good fight same as you.”

“I know you do,” Din states, like she just said the most obvious thing in the world.

“Does it get you as hot as it gets me?”

“Yeah,” he answers in that deep knowing voice that goes straight to her belly. _Damn his voice. Did he have to say it like that? She would_ not _become distracted just from that._

“Should be fun then.” She hands him a roll of a think spongy-gauze material to use in place of tape to wrap their hands. It wouldn’t dull any blows significantly, but it might spare both their knuckles as well as their teeth if they got too excited.

“When I met you, you had practically the same armor, only a few pieces are different. The style is the same and you beat my ass that day with much less armor than I was wearing. How did you get the drop on me anyway?”

“I knew you’d follow me; I could see the wheels turning in your head when you looked at me. I made sure to leave really obvious footprints. You’re too easy sometimes, Din.”

He sounds pouty now. “No one has ever stepped on my flamethrower before. What the hell Cara, do you know how long it took to fix all the delicate machinery in there? The fuel intake lines are tiny and surprisingly delicate.”

“ _Oh, I’m sorry_ , are you telling me I should have just let you light me on fire? Fuck that.” She laughs as he hands the gauze back to her.

“I wouldn’t have lit you on fire, I was just trying to push you back.”

“I thought you were after me, I wasn’t going to give you the chance to get the upper hand,” she says simply. They’ve had variations of this conversation before. She was still amused each and every time.

“A lot has changed since then, hasn’t it?” he asks, seemingly lost in thought.

“It has,” she agrees, “but not everything. Not what matters.”

“No, a lot of things are the same,” he says, and after a long pause he adds, “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” she states, determined not to get caught up in his sentimental wish-wash. _Ok fine, she was caught up in it too._

Some things _are_ still the same.

Their ability to read each other in a fight, their easy camaraderie that turned into friendship faster than they had ever heard of; their bond, their ability to be perfectly in sync with one another despite her never seeing his face or meeting his eyes in the light of day, their banter, their back-and-forth, their loyalty to each other, their willingness to step into the line of fire to protect each other or the kid, their trust, their attraction to each other apparently- _though that was a new discovery of something that had apparently been there all along. Did that count?_

When the actual fight starts, she gets him on the ground first, but he manages to roll them so he’s holding her down and she makes a show of struggling underneath him.

 _She's all but squirming under him now._ “You doing this in purpose?” he asks incredulously, as he thinks he’s figured out her game.

“You finally caught on to that?” she asks, both impressed and put out that he caught on so quickly this time.

“You are playing dirty.” He states with a heat in his voice that takes the bite out of his words.

“Is there any other way to play?” she asks, as she shifts under him.

“I don't think so.” He grinds his hips against her. 

“Fine. Point,” she says, “take your damn point.” He gets off her reluctantly as they reset to their positions.

The vambraces are next to go the next time she hears him announce “Pin! My point.”

“Pin. My point,” she announces next. He loses his chest plate with that one.

“Choke hold. My point.” His thigh guards are the next to go.

“Pin. My point.”

He reaches up to help her removes her collar guard and their fingers brush against one another as they work to get it off.

When the rest of plated pieces are gone, only her soft clothes are left. 

She started with fewer pieces of armor, but she still didn’t like running out first. _She hates losing. Time for a change of plan._

Din pinned her again. His legs outside of hers as he held her down with his weight. If she really wanted to, she could get him off of her, but not without hurting him in a delicate way that men preferred not to be hurt. ‘ _She’s out of armor_ ,’ Din thinks to himself. He’s about to make a smart comment about her not having anything else to remove, but she beats him to it. She pulls his hand to the hem of her shirt and starts tugging it up over her flat stomach.

“Come on, take it off,” She both begs and encourages him at the same time.

He can’t even think of a comeback.

She shifts her legs to encourage him to put one of his legs between hers so she can grind against him like she needs. She’s so hot now and she needs friction before she goes insane. He answers her rocking motion with his own, and his second leg joins the first as he settles between her legs. The cradle of her hips is the best place he’s ever been- the insides of her thighs are so soft and so strong at the same time as they fit together perfectly. He’s insanely hard at this point but his pressure against her is nothing he wants to shy away from this time, as she arches and moans as he pushes against her roughly.

“Floor or bed?” she asks hurriedly, as she’s losing the ability to form sentences at an alarming rate.

“Bed,” he states, and he’s never loved how that word sounded as much as he does right now. _Short but so loaded with promise._ “We can turn the lights off and I can take this thing off to put my mouth on you.”

Just the thought of his mouth makes her turn molten inside.

“Bed then. _Now_ ,” she insists and if the heat in her voice is any indicator, they won’t be leaving that soft flat surface for quite some time. “Come on.”

Next thing she knows they’re both on their feet. _She has no memory of that._ He must have pulled her up. It can’t be more than 15 steps to his bunk but that’s more patience than she has in her right now. She pushes him roughly against the nearest wall and pushes against him to kiss and suck and bite at his neck as he groans at the sensation. She’s so desperate now that she doesn’t care if they do this against the wall, but they have to get their clothes off soon or she might die.

“Come on Din, pants. Off.”

_Well, she’s lost the ability to form sentences. She’s down to one syllable words apparently._

She sucks hard enough on his neck to leave a bruise; the feeling of her mouth taking away the remaining brain function he was desperately hanging onto. She grinds her hips into his deliberately.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, Din.”

“Same.” _He has to know she’ll stop him if he pushes too far._

“I don’t want to stop, just so you know” she says, making it abundantly clear how much she wants this. 

“Good, neither do I.”

She shoves her hand down his pants and he almost jumps at how good the bare skin of her hand feels on him and she strokes him quickly and evenly with a pace that drives him so close to the edge he tastes blood in his mouth as he bites the inside of his cheek to stave it off. This is better than any dream he’s ever had.

“Touch me,” she begs.

He turns her so her back is against the wall as he reaches into her own pants in hopes of trying to get her warmed up. He’s barely even brushed against her when he exclaims in surprise--

“Holy shit! How are you so wet already?” He can’t imagine her beautiful reaction to him getting any better, but this….. _this_ was too much. Wet wasn’t even the word to describe it. _Soaked_ was the only word his brain could come up with to adequately describe what his fingers sank into. He could barely create any friction at all she was so slick, but she writhed and moaned when he rubbed against her, indicating she was clearly getting something out of his touch. Her enthusiastic reaction and the way she was rolling her hips against his hand, encouraged his fingers to push inside her just enough she threw her head back against the wall and started running her mouth trying to get him to move things along. _She seemed to do that when she was turned-on, he noticed….._

“It’s for you, you idiot. Keep touching me.”

“I’m the idiot? How could you not know how badly I wanted you for so long?” he asks her incredulously.

“Fine, we’re both idiots then,” she concedes, “but I want us to be naked idiots. Come on….” She pulls him away from the wall and towards his bunk. As the door closes and the room descends to darkness, she hears him lift off his helmet and place it down somewhere. “Come on Di—” she tries to get him moving, but his mouth is already on hers. That’s all it takes for both of them to completely lose it. She all but rips his shirt over his head and her hands are suddenly everywhere. Somewhere she lost her bra because he feels her breasts pressing against his chest.

“Come on,” she eggs him on, enticingly.

She’s pushing his pants down his hips almost frantically now and he reaches for hers with equal desperation. By the time she’s on her back and he’s between her legs, he’s painfully hard and rubbing perfectly against where she’s most sensitive, like they had fit together like this countless times before.

“I want you”, he says, hoping those words can convey all the meaning he wants to put behind them. He wants _her_. It’s as simple as that. He wants everything. Her friendship, her smile, her humor, her affection, her body, her presence in his life and by his side, her _everything_.

“I want you too,” she says seriously with as much affection and heat she can infuse into so few words.

She reaches down to grab his backside appreciatively and growl right against his lips, “now move your _ass_ , before I take this into my own hands. She makes a poor attempt at flipping him but it’s so half-hearted it just makes him laugh as he kisses her with even more passion than before. _Just sex_ would have be easy, but this is so much more than that. The connection they share colors every interaction they have, everything they do and share, and this is no different. Her words and her touch are a reminder of this. He’s never felt connected to anyone like he does her and this is the culmination of their connection growing and evolving into something more, something new. This isn’t just sex, they’ve always known that.

There can never be just anything with Cara. He of course knows what it is by now, but pondering _that_ word and what it means is for another time. This thing between them, what they’ve been circling and moving steadily toward is that word. He knows it as surely as he knows his own name. Speaking of his name, he’s about to forget it as she arches against him to rub her wetness along him over and over, getting herself off in the process.

When he finally shifts to press into her and they’re finally moving as one, they’re both sweating and shaking with the pent-up tension finally being given an outlet to dissipate. _It should be dissipating right?_ _Then why is it just building higher and higher; stronger and hotter and thicker with their every move against each other?_ This is so much better than fighting, but so similar: the give and take, the working toward a common goal. It’s fast, and desperate, and so hot he can barely breathe. The whole room has gotten so hot, just from _them_. _They created this heat, this energy filling the room._ - _Them-_. Their hands and their mouths are everywhere trying to seek their own pleasure, but where they are anchored together, their focus is making each other feel good instead. She’s _everywhere_ and he can barely take inventory of her at this point. All he knows is that finally being inside her is _everything_. She’s surrounding him, and underneath him, and all around him at the same time. He can taste her and smell her and touch her and hear her. _It’s impossible not to hear her with how loudly she’s being. He vaguely recalls hoping the kid was still asleep._

She’s desperate for relief, and when he tries to slow down to get a grip on his blinding need pushing him too fast, she wraps her ankles around his lower back and pulls him roughly against her until he resumes the pace to get her eyes rolling back into her head. Her enthusiastic moans when he kisses her and manages to get a hand between them echo in his head until he can’t be sure if he’s hearing it for the first time, or just replaying it over and over in his head. She all but cries out into his neck when he manages to grit his teeth and block out his own blindingly intense pleasure threatening to end this all too soon, to double down on the pace and angle he’s learning will get her over the edge. When he manages to get his mouth on her sensitive nipple and sucks experimentally _just so,_ following it with loving passes of his rough tongue, he feels the first clench of her muscles around him and he knows he has virtually no time left on his own clock.

“Come on, please,” she breathes out in the most breathless voice he has ever heard. “Give it to me, Din. I need you,” she pleads against his lips between rough kisses that have devolved rapidly into mostly just the wet slide of their tongues against each other mimicking the give and take of their bodies. She’s begging shamelessly now, her mouth right against his so he could almost taste her words in his own mouth. He would hear her muttering those words over and over in his dreams for the rest of his natural life.

“Come on.” _It’s almost becoming a mantra at this point_.

He manages to pull one of her knees higher up his ribcage and she whines at the increased pressure it produces when he moves. They’re both muttering nonsense at this point and sweating so badly they’ll have to change the sheets before they can sleep, but all they can think about is how good they feel together like this. They were meant to be joined like this. _What the hell had they been waiting for?_ Her own peak hits her so hard and fast she has no time to warn him and they both tumble over the edge together. Her voice is wrecked, and he knows his isn’t much better. _Gods, how loud had they been?_

They manage to catch their breath, but it takes them such a long time she worries they might have done real lasting lung damage _. Is that possible?_ It’s still pitch black, but she can practically feel him smiling as she throws an arm over his chest and he wraps his arms around her to keep her close. The sweat is starting to cool uncomfortably on their skin every place where they’re not pressed together, and the sheets are totally ruined if the wet patch they’ve created is any indicator, but they can deal with that later.

“Holy shit,” she speaks first.

“Agreed. Holy shit,” Dins says, and he thinks that’s the only thought that will leave his mouth for days.

“You think the kid managed stayed asleep the whole time?” she asks as an afterthought.

“Stars, I hope so. I’m not looking forward to having that talk with him anytime soon.”

“He doesn’t really talk yet, it would be pretty easy,” she says, as she yawns and puts her head down more comfortably on his shoulder.

“You’re volunteering then?”

“He’s 50 years old,” she says, with a laugh.

“He’s still just a baby,” he insists. 

“When the time comes, well do it together if that makes you feel better,” she agrees, to ease his worry about a future conversation that was years off at best.

“You planning on sticking around for the long haul then?” he asks as lightheartedly as he can, but he’s listening so closely for her reply he’s holding his breath.

“You think I’m leaving after that? Are you kidding me? I have a good thing going here.” She says it all playfully except for the last seven words. Her response is exactly what he wanted to hear. She’s staying. Even if it had to be hidden in a joke for her to admit it, that was all that mattered. She wanted to stay. _With them. With him._

_‘We do have a good thing,’ he thinks._ This _thing_ ; he still couldn’t define every aspect of it but he knew this: it was _good_. Better than good. It was everything he ever wanted and even things he didn’t know he wanted until he met her.

“Just checking. I’ll probably drive you insane long before then,” he states trying to lighten the mood. _She wants to stay. They can have serious conversations later. They have time._

“Only after I’ve driven you insane first,” she says with a laugh, perfectly understanding how their personalities work in tune together, but also how strong willed they both are. “You may be shocked to hear this, but I’ve been described as stubborn.”

“No!” he says with mock surprise, his voice laden with the heaviest sarcasm he could lay on. “Who would ever think that about you?!” He doesn’t know when to stop teasing her and the sound of her laugh makes him double down, “I am _shocked_ Cara, just shocked!”

She hits him hard in response to that last one, but she is laughing so freely now, he takes the hit she owes him graciously. _He had that one coming._ They wrap their arms tighter around each other as their laughs settle back down to a chuckle.

“Keep joking Mando, see where it gets you.”

“It can’t possibly get any better than underneath you,” he says, honestly in awe of how good she feels laying across him.

“Good save,” Cara said, with a smirk on her face Din couldn't see, but he could practically _hear_.

“I’m learning…..” Din replied with a grin of his own. He might never be able to wipe the grin off his face now. They helmet would come in handy for sure.

“It only took us this long to get here. I guess we’re both learning,” she conceded amicably.

“Let’s not be this slow going forward, deal?” he asks, still disbelieving they finally got here, despite all the opportunities they had missed out on due to their reluctance to risk what they had in chance of _this_.

“Deal.” She states.

“I’d say, ‘let’s shake on it,’ but I don’t think I’m capable of it right now,” he says with a laugh, as he takes stock of his weary limbs.

“Me neither, my whole body was just shaking, I couldn’t possibly…..” she says, as she tries and fails to raise her hand into something approximating a handshake.

They both let out a fond laugh at how pitiful they are, exhausted from finally coming together and lazing about in the afterglow like a couple of over-eager idiot teenagers who don’t know how to pace themselves. “So, did I make your legs shake like I promised?” he asked.

“You said it would be in _my bed,_ this is yours. You ready for round two already?” she says, still trying to catch her breath. “We can walk over there right now if you want to live up to your words. You did make a promise and I know your word is important to you……”

He laughed freely at that. He had no choice; it just came out. “Believe me, I want to, but I can’t.”

“Pity, I was just about to say how impressed I was with your stamina.” She says with a teasing, challenging tone hidden somewhere in there. _Neither of them could ever back down from a challenge to save their life._

“Give me 10 minutes and I’ll show you stamina,” Din promises with a laugh, and she can already see him in the dark preparing himself for the challenge. ‘ _That’s more like it,’ she thinks._

“You’re on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you all enjoyed this journey along with me :)  
> First prompt in the books, done.  
> Please let me know if you enjoyed it. It really makes my day, you have no idea :)  
> This week has been pretty crappy but working on this and reading your comments have been a welcome distraction.
> 
> I'm getting back to my other series now so I can finish that, but feel free to drop me a line if you have other prompts or ideas you'd like to see. 
> 
> thanks again everyone. I appreciated all your kind words.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading,  
> Leave a comment if you liked it :) they make we want to write so much more !


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